Anything with /'s inside quotes is being spoken in Czech.

Chapter 2

"Radek? You with us, lad?" Carson's voice came from a distance and got closer as Radek awoke slowly.

"Apologies, doctor, but the news was ... I did not sleep the last night, and have not eaten, and the pain medication makes staying awake sometimes difficult." He felt a little like Rodney, trying to explain away what was probably a perfectly reasonable reaction to the news he'd been given combined with the lack of sleep or food.

"Nothin' to worry about, lad." Dr. Beckett pulled a chair closer, sitting beside the bed.

Radek's heart pounded and he knew the monitor showed it, which only made him even more conscious of it. "I know better than to ask if Rodney was right about machine. What do the tests say?"

"I'll cut to the chase, Radek. Yes, Rodney was right – the pregnancy blood work came back positive, and the scan revealed the presence of a uterus in your torso. It also explains the anomalies in the other tests. The pain you've been feeling was the growth of that uterus, which thankfully is fully grown, so the pain should be gone now."

Without realizing it, Radek's hand moved to his stomach when he heard, almost as if protecting something there. The gesture surprised him and he hoped the doctor hadn't noticed. "Could I see these notes, please? I wish to know everything."

Beckett nodded and withdrew, returning a moment later with one of the infirmary laptops. "This is what Rodney gave me, I'll see if he's left anything off."

Radek tried to ignore the fact that he was shaking, still reeling from the news. Part of his mind shut the idea out entirely, and he was able to look through the notes from an impersonal standpoint, absorbing the details about the machine, it's purpose and function.

The Ancients, apparently placed a lot of importance on family, children, parents, siblings, aunts and uncles. They didn't limit the definition to 'man/woman/progeny' believing most that a child should have adults who loved them. They also felt strongly that if a couple wished children, the best way to bond with that child was to allow one parent or the other to carry the child. Needless to say two out of the three combinations of men and women had no issues – a woman was designed to carry a child. It shouldn't have surprised anyone that the people capable of building the Stargates and Atlantis herself would also be capable of making it quite easily possible for a man to carry a child to term without a great degree of difficulty. Based on the notes, Radek surmised that Rodney's genes had activated the machine, and without his knowing had taken enough material to extract a strand of DNA, which was all that was needed. The impregnation of the second partner, in this case Radek, occurred when he or she also touched the device. They couldn't figure out how the change was taking place, but it was done now. The child would now develop normally within Radek's body, the modified uterus drawing on his own energies the same way a woman's would. In this case, according to the notes, when the child was at full term, they would surgically remove child and uterus, leaving the man unchanged, as he was before the pregnancy. Thankfully, Radek didn't notice anything about the growth of breasts to fascilitate feeding said child.

So he was pregnant ... and with Rodney's child. That thought made him shudder a little. The big question before him now was whether to keep the child at all. He wondered, strangely, what Rodney would want.

When Radek had read through the notes several times, he quietly asked if Dr. Beckett could come in.

"Can I be released, doctor?" He asked, closing the laptop. "I need to think about this, about everything, and I cannot do that here." Blue eyes shone behind spectacles and he was glad the doctor didn't argue with him.

"Aye, lad. You're in good health, considering, but I'd like you to stay away from the labs for now, alright? I'll have a word with Rodney so he won't make a fuss, he'll never admit it but I think he's worried about you, lad. Come back in a few days for a checkup? And let me know how you want to proceed with this." Carson truly didn't know what to say – a pregnant woman he could cope with, easily. Even women who don't necessarily want children are aware from childhood of the potential – a man has no such awareness and he could imagine a sudden pregnancy such as this could be seen as an affront to a man's masculinity. He wouldn't mention it unless Radek did, but if Dr. Zelenka wanted an abortion, he'd perform one.

Radek was released from the infirmary and made his way slowly through the halls. He couldn't meet anyone's eyes, especially the marines, though he felt as though they were all staring at him, through him, like they knew his secret. He took the long way back to his rooms, circling around the laboratory so he couldn't run into Rodney.

"Zelenka! Hold up!" Kavanaugh's grating voice followed Radek through the halls and he stopped, knowing the man had no issues about personal space and would dog him back to his rooms until he got what he wanted. "What are you doing, giving Miko the protein analysis tests? That was supposed to be mine ..."

Radek listened impassively, one hand on his hip, one resting across his stomach, as if he were scratching lightly. Kavanaugh was as usual being self important, trying to make others change to suit his own opinion of himself. Finally Radek snapped. "I have put Miko on protein analysis and you on sampling run because Miko can cease to think of her own reputation for more than two minutes, and you going off world makes everyone around here happy and does wonders for morale. Good day."

The uncharacteristic bluntness of Zelenka's outburst startled Kavenaugh long enough for Zelenka to get away, and he realized he didn't care that he'd just insulted a colleague, and knew full well a report would be written by the self-important little man berating Radek's unprofessional manner and demanding he be removed from the Atlantis project. Radek almost thanked Rodney aloud when he heard his boss on the radio, demanding Kavanaugh's presence in the lab.

In his rooms, Radek set his radio aside and lay on his bed. One arm tucked up under his head, the other laying over his stomach. He was pregnant. He had never wanted children, never really liked them. His marriage had fractured over that point, his wife wanting children, and Radek preferring not. They had split long before the divorce was finalized, only a month before his leaving Earth. He knew he could go back to Beckett, right now, and have the child and everything to do with it taken out of him and thrown away, or kept for study, he didn't care.

Atlantis wasn't a place for children – there was too much to do, too many things that could go wrong. Radek himself was too busy to lose the inevitable time to actually carrying the child, the way his body would slow down his work. He couldn't afford the time caring for the baby would demand afterwards. And he feared the military, if he was honest. Many of them, one-to-one, he didn't fear as such – there was a camaraderie here, after everything they'd been through, but when something this strange confronted them, Radek didn't believe that all the Marines on the base would be understanding. The homophobia would certainly play a part – though Radek himself preferred women, the very notion of him – a man – carrying a child, especially the child of another man – smacked of the same unnaturalness of two men as lovers. Having a child would make Radek a liability in so many ways, even before the child was born. The clear and obvious decision was to abort. Today. Now. He lifted a hand from his stomach and reached for his radio link, tugging it over his ear. He switched it on, listening to the quiet chatter on the various channels. It wasn't something he normally did, but he was finding it difficult to speak, to say Dr. Beckett's name, to ask if there was time in the infirmary. He wondered if, in asking, he would reveal too much to someone listening. Atlantis was not, as a rule, populated by idiots. In the end, he tugged the link off again and stood. He'd go down there now, and wait around until Beckett could see to him.

Again, he walked slowly, feeling everyone in the city looking at him, as if he were a freak. He had never felt like this, and he wondered in passing if everyone who was 'different' felt this way. If so, he had even greater respect now for those who endured this all their lives.

"Dr. Zelenka?" Elizabeth's voice cut through Radek's own thoughts as he walked. "Are you alright?" She held her coffee in both hands, giving Radek a concerned look.

"I am fine, Dr. Weir." He tried to summon a smile for the woman who was slowly becoming a friend. Facing certain death a few times together did that to people. Under other circumstances he would call her Elizabeth, but it was a privelage he saved until she asked or unless they were all about to die. Again.

"Are you sure?" She asked, then switched to Czech as several marines approached, not wanting to embarrass the man. "/You look pale, and Rodney tells me you were having stomach pains yesterday?/"

Radek searched her face, her eyes – a diplomat's face, trained not to lie even if her words might. Had Rodney kept it at stomach pains, or did she know about what grew right now in Radek's body? What would she advise him to do? She was a woman, and his friend. No, he mentally shook his head. He was getting rid of the child, not wanting to burden Atlantis any further than she already was. "/Thank you for your concern, Dr. Weir. Yes, I've had pains, I'm going to the infirmary now to talk to Dr. Beckett about them./" The truth had never felt so much like a lie as it did right then.

"/Alright. Take care of yourself, I like to see my scientists in good shape./" She smiled warmly. "/I'll see you at dinner tonight?/"

"/If I'm up to it, I look forward to it./" He smiled back, briefly and was aware it didn't meet his eyes. He enjoyed the friendship the two had, even the ever so subtle flirtation that could never be anything more.

Parting ways with Elizabeth, Radek kept walking, making his way to the infirmary. When he arrived, he was startled to see Rodney there, as if waiting for someone, typing frantically on his laptop. "Zelenka." he looked up when the other man approached, standing as he closed the laptop with a snap.

"Dr. McKay." Radek felt wary right now around the other man – feeling a stab of guilt that some might consider he was taking a decision away from Rodney in aborting the child.

"I'd like to talk to you in private," Rodney asked. His voice was a little sharp, but with an undertone that Radek recognized as Rodney needing some kind of interpersonal contact that he wasn't good at asking for.

"Can it wait?" Radek's heart raced, suspecting Rodney wanted to talk him out of this. "I'm here to see Dr. Beckett."

"He's patching up Kavenaugh, he'll be a few minutes. Please, Radek?" Rodney looked furtive, nervous, eyes a little scared maybe but steady. Steadier than they would have been a year ago.

"Alright." The pair left the infirmary and found a small, unused room nearby, which Rodney closed as Zelenka settled on a small, uncomfortable chair, one arm curled around his stomach.

"What are you doing?" The question wasn't accusatory, nor demanding. It was just Rodney doing his best to keep his own emotions in check. Radek was worried at the calm tone – Rodney was high strung, and for him to behave like this meant something was going on.

"I've decided to not burden the city or her people with such an inconvenience as a child would cause." He found he couldn't meet Rodney's eyes, feeling them boring into his skull. His arm around his waist tightened as the other joined it.

"I see." Rodney sat across from him, looking up, as he often did when thinking. "Have you spoken to Carson about it?"

"I have not. It's where I was going when you brought me in here. I cannot see he would force this on me. It would slow me down in later months, and sooner perhaps, with sickness and other things." He remembered his sisters pregnancy only vaguely and distantly. "And the child itself would be demanding."

"You're probably the only person in this city I'll have to say this to but, Radek ... Sometimes you really do have to think of what you want. Atlantis is important, yes, but ... So are you. Of course if you ever repeat that I'll deny it. I know you never wanted kids, neither have I, but ... Hell, I'm reconsidering the whole idea, just knowing that ..." He left it unspoken that he was half of what Zelenka was getting rid of, that the other man was so blithe about scraping part of Rodney's child out of him.

"What would you have me to, Rodney?" He asked, finally meeting the other man's searching blue eyes. "Carry the child, raise it here in the city? It will slow me down. The marines will hate the child ... and me for having something so unnatural. I did not wish this. I do not think I want this. I never liked children, I did not want them. But as you say, the possibility forces one to reconsider. When I left my rooms, I wanted only to be rid of this, to no longer be a freak. But even then I wondered ... what would it be like? To have a child, to feel it move, to watch it grow. I do not demand you take any more part in this than you have," he left it there, leaving it up to Rodney whether he would be a part of the child's life or not, beyond being Radek's boss.

"I ... I don't know, I really don't. I won't make a good parent, but ... if you keep the baby, I'll be there. I ..." Christ, how to say this without tipping his hand too much. "We can't be ... I mean, nothing against you personally but you and I won't ... As a couple, because, ah ..."

"Don't worry, Rodney, you're safe from me. Men are attractive enough but I prefer women, and I would not have you betray your feelings for the sake of a child neither of us wished to conceive." He knew – rather, he had a very strong hypothesis regarding Rodney's feelings for a certain Air Force Colonel, and he tried to keep his words just vague enough that Rodney could feel secure that Radek didn't know who might be betrayed.

"So ... you've decided ...?"

For all his preference for women, Radek did find Rodney rather adorable those few times when he didn't quite know what to say. "I have decided for now ... not to decide. It is too big, and I would like more time to think. I thank you, at least, for making me truly think about things, and not merely act on the why-nots."

"I ... you're welcome. I, ah, I'll try not to, uhm, be too much of a pain about it, it's your decision, really, after all. So ... I'll just ... go."

Rodney departed quickly, leaving Radek alone with his thoughts.