"The wraith do not simply wish to conquer Atlantis," Teyla murmured, her voice coming unexpectedly into the tense silence. Connections forged a path in the hunter's mind, and Gabe sighed, closing his eyes and dreading the words he knew he was about to hear. "They seek more fertile feeding grounds," the Athosian whispered, exhausted by the contact with the wraith, and the drain its actions had placed on her body.
"Earth," Gabriel and Sheppard murmured. The private's low whisper was drowned out by the decisive snap of his CO's voice.
"How would they know about Earth?" Ford asked logically, looking to the Major for an answer.
Sheppard's face went alight with certainty. "Colonel Sumner," he spoke with the single-minded confidence of sureness. "Sumner was captured and questioned. We didn't know what the wraith were, then. There are over six billion people on Earth. Of course the wraith would want it."
"And the only way to get to Earth is through Atlantis," Weir murmured.
Sergeant Bates' face was white, his mouth pursed. "And they have a way in," he stated grimly. His eyes were fixed on Teyla.
"You think that Teyla would betray us?" Not for nothing did Weir command all of Atlantis. There was no censure, no interest, no defensiveness – nothing in the careful query to give a hint about her own feelings on the subject.
"Not intentionally," Bates admitted grudgingly, seeing the vicious look Sheppard was leveling on him. Gabriel gave the man credit. Despite the clear opposition to what he was saying, Bates was unafraid to state his opinion, and do so fairly. "But yes. The wraith have a link to us, through her. And they know it."
"But it appears that we also have something which can counter that link." Weir was the one to speak these words, surprising Gabriel. He would have not thought that she would be the one to unveil his secret, and he kept his face expressionless. Dread did not curl in his stomach; on the contrary, his mind was working clearly and quickly, turning over choices and calculating paths of action.
It was not long before every face in the room turned to him, following Weir's gaze if they had not already noticed something amiss.
"You," Sheppard said, fierce curiosity in the word. "The wraith knew you. It recognized you."
Betrayal shone clearly from several faces, and Gabriel stepped back. The hunter within wanted to reach for a weapon, but outwardly the man only tensed, knowing himself to be defenseless.
"I can explain that," Weir spoke up at once, and Gabe had to frown. Her motivations were unknown to him, and he could not see purpose in her actions. "Private Venner encountered and killed a wraith in Atlantis. It was the pilot of the dart which scanned the city only a few days ago."
"Why wasn't I told?" Sheppard demanded immediately.
Weir's brows rose in answer, and she glanced around the infirmary. "Dr. Heightmeyer, if you wouldn't mind?"
"Of course," the woman said. But she stared speculatively at Gabriel until she was forced to either turn away or walk into a wall.
The Major scowled, taking Weir's meaning. "Bates, Ford. Dismiss."
The two men left, and Beckett sighed, speaking up for the first time. "Could ye hand me the Tylenol? It's just to the left of the – thank ye." Gabe reached for the pills as soon as Beckett made the request known. The doctor dry-swallowed two, rubbing his head carefully as he slowly sat up. Teyla had, unnoticed, drifted into sleep several minutes before.
Sheppard, however, was using the time to think furiously. "A few days ago – that's when your team leader pulled you from active duty."
"Beckett concocted that story," Weir interrupted smoothly. "With my permission."
"What?" Sheppard was justifiably surprised by this, and he scowled.
Beckett, pale and tired, sat up. Gabriel put a steadying hand on his shoulder when the doctor swayed slightly, and Sheppard's gaze turned hard. Once more, Venner moved slowly, cautiously back from the others.
"John," Weir appealed to the leader of the military directly. "This was not a matter which required your involvement."
"Why not? When one of my men has the potential -"
"That's all it is," Beckett interrupted harshly. "Potential. And Ah'll not allow anyone to be forced into cooperating with medical examination."
John's eyes narrowed in surprise. "I wouldn't do that," he answered quietly.
"How could we know that?" Elizabeth asked, eyes earnest.
"By asking!"
"We couldn't take that chance," she explained reasonably, raising her brows in the expectation of understanding.
The argument looked set and ready to continue for a good deal longer, and Gabe could feel an expression of disgust tracing its way across his features. He didn't wait to be dismissed, noting that Beckett was focused on the heated words Sheppard and Weir were exchanging. He slipped to the back of the room, moving soundlessly away from the heated confrontation.
He should have stayed, he realized almost as soon as he left. But perhaps he was learning more of human impatience than he thought. Much as they grew and changed over the ages, humanity actually progressed very little, he found himself thinking bitterly.
A moment later, he wondered at these thoughts, at his own uncharacteristic impatience.
He was concerned. Frightened, he admitted to himself. Absently, he rubbed his arm. It was still aching slightly from the encounter with the wraith, though the wound was little more than a fading scar. Stopping behind a rack of shelves, he moved to one of the many windows lining the room. The sun was shining brightly on the sea, raising his spirits slightly.
It was rare in his experience with humanity that he could not will himself to the background and out of the memory of those who encountered him, when the need arose. Much of who and what he was existed so far beyond the realm of mortal understanding that he did not usually concern himself with such trivialities. It was protection of a form – one that had been partially stripped away here in Atlantis. It left him vulnerable as he had only been a few times in his long, long life. He enjoyed the sensation no more than he had on those rare, previous occasions – which was not at all.
It was that which was plaguing him, shortening his temper and souring his disposition. There was nothing he could do about it, however, except face the fear. He had never been one for running away.
Setting his shoulders, he unconsciously felt himself slipping out and away from the image of Gabriel Venner, the youthful and useful façade he had used for the past few months. The thirty-something SF had been a faded and shallow reflection of himself, barely half-alive; Gabriel did not mourn his disappearance.
He could hear the words still flying back and forth through the air as he approached the scene. Moving away from the protection of the shielding shelves, he caught Beckett's glance and knew that the doctor, at least, had noticed his absence. He smiled a little, and continued toward the group with a purposeful, yet silent, step.
"If you two are finished?" he asked. Cold and commanding, Gabriel was older than both of them. In that moment, staring at them as if they were argumentative youngsters, he looked it.
The shock on their faces would be comical, but it quickly transformed to other expressions – Sheppard's eyes narrowed and Weir frowned darkly at him.
"It occurs to me," Beckett spoke consideringly into the terse silence, "That the one person who hasn't been consulted on what to do about this situation is Gabe himself."
"My goal since the beginning has been to keep as many people as possible from knowing about this," Gabriel returned bluntly, answering the doctor immediately without giving the others a chance to respond. "I have done everything in my power to see that goal through. Regardless of the authority of the individuals involved." He did not look at either Weir or Sheppard as he said this.
What he had to say next was important. He locked eyes with Sheppard. "Don't blame Weir or Beckett for lying to you; the fault lies solely with me."
"Why would you feel the need to lie in the first place?" Weir asked, impatience unable to mask the curiosity in her voice.
Gabriel's mind snapped back to a moment in time – an awful memory, one of a cursed few. Though he remained silent, his stony expression spoke volumes.
"That doesn't matter," Sheppard spoke after a moment. He seemed to have regained some control over himself. "I need to know exactly what you did." He glanced at Weir and Beckett. "Potential, you said. What does that mean?"
Weir looked to Gabriel, hesitating with her information for the first time. Beckett too glanced at him, but his look was much more concerned - that of a doctor for a patient, or perhaps one friend for another. It was to Carson that Gabriel nodded, yielding tacit permission and giving over the life of Private Gabe Venner into his hands.
Beckett spoke slowly, as if waiting for Gabriel to cut him off at any moment, but the hunter stayed silent through the tale. Beckett told of his strange and wondrous findings, the technological inability to use the data he was gathering in any significant way. His voice dropped when he spoke of finding Gabe unconscious after the private dragged himself back from the confrontation with the wraith, and the speed with which the wound healed.
At the end Sheppard was left shocked, frustrated, thwarted and angered in equal parts. The man used a few empty moments to compose himself, but his next few concerns were clear even before the words were formed.
"How can we use this to our advantage?"
"Medically I'd advise against it," Beckett said immediately. "One wraith was able to physically drain Private Venner to the point of extended unconsciousness. Any escalation of the type of attack he launched on the wraith would surely kill him."
"I don't even know how I did it," Gabriel spoke for the first time. That, at least, was not a lie. With that one statement, the danger of exposure, of failing in his promise, was eradicated. "There's no way to tell if I could even do it again."
The lie came forth easily, and he felt no guilt. Gabriel could wipe out the entire population of wraith in the universe in a heartbeat. But it was not his duty, or his right, to do so. He had not been put on Earth to solve mankind's problems for them; and the same was true in the Pegasus galaxy.
"But I do know how I can help," Gabe continued. Three faces looked at him; not with hope, for that had been tempered to resolve by the fiery trials Pegasus had hurled at them. Instead, there was willingness to listen, and to accept, whatever they could. "Give me back my gun."
Silence fell, deep and thick between them. The wraith were coming.
The Major's mouth tightened, tiny stress lines forming at the lips and corners of his eyes, invisible to the casual observer. Face darkened with determination, Sheppard nodded.
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Hear Ye, Hear Ye: Classes are in full swing. Exams start next week, and do not let up for over a month. The take-home message in all of this is expressly what is stated in my bio; sporadic updates, with lengthy waits betwixt and between. I'm sorry, but unfortunately life's like that. However, I will NOT give up writing, dreaming, or creating any of my stories. Never let the thought cross your mind. The timetable has simply been considerably extended, is all. Do enjoy!