A/N: Hope this is alright. It's past midnight-thirty for me so I'll edit this seriously tomorrow morning. In the meantime, enjoy.
Chapter summary: In which Teyla asks questions, Hermos and Critias bicker, and Jinto and Hermos might just gang up on Critias.
7: Hermos
Teyla watched curiously as Jinto finally built up the courage to slip out from around the corner and approach Timaeus, Critias, and Hermocrates. Critias seemed to notice the boy almost immediately, his dark blue gaze following the Athosian boy's progress. Yet Critias made no threatening move, choosing to simply stand and wait for the boy to approach.
When Jinto was within touching distance, he stopped and fiddled nervously with his hands before speaking. "Why is your hair so pale?" he asked.
Teyla pressed her lips together tightly to resist the urge to burst into chuckles. Critias lifted a single blonde eyebrow and stared at the boy in confusion.
"Because it is," he said.
"But why?" Jinto pressed.
Shifting so he faced Jinto directly, Critias hummed. "Because I wanted it to be this color," he said. "It made sense to have paler features considering."
"Considering what?" Jinto asked, tilting his head to the side.
There was a barely muffled snort of amusement from the medical bed where Hermocrates sat by a slumbering Timaeus. Critias must have heard it but chose to ignore it.
"It's icy where I come from," Critias said.
Jinto wrinkled his nose. "What's that got to do with anything?"
Critias let out a long sigh through his nose and let his shoulders droop. "Have you ever been outside in the snow before, boy?" he asked.
"Of course."
"Then tell me," dark blue eyes sharpened, "which is harder to see? White on white or black on white?"
Jinto thought for a moment before his eyes grew large and his mouth formed an 'oh' of understanding. It quickly became a frown. "But then why not have white hair?" he asked. "Timaeus has white hair," he added, pointing to the man sleeping on the bed. "Sort of."
The amusement faded slightly from Hermocrates' face while Critias' expression remained largely unreadable.
"It wasn't always that way, kid," Hermocrates said, offering Jinto a sad smile. "It used to be all black."
Teyla felt her chin dip in grim realization. She noticed the gleam of dusky blue flicker in her direction. But when Critias made no move to acknowledge her, she held her silence.
"How did it change color then?" Jinto asked innocently. "Is he older than he looks?"
"Why so many questions?" Critias countered in a curt tone.
Jinto shrugged. "I'm curious." He hesitated, starting to fiddle with his fingers again. "Am I intruding? I apologize if I was. I just wanted to know."
Critias remained silent for several seconds before sharing a look with Hermocrates. The brunette pursed his lips and shrugged as if to say 'why not.' Midnight blue then settled on her and she tilted her head in silent permission. Some things were best learned the hard way.
Retuning his attention to Jinto, Critias crossed his arms over his chest. When he spoke, his voice was steady. The subtle infections hinted at the emotion he refused to show on his face. Hatred. Anger. Disdain. Grief. Emotions Teyla knew well from her years running from the Wraith with her people. But never had she heard such emotions directed at the Ancestors.
"Timaeus was imprisoned and tortured for approximately 10,000 years by the people who built this accursed city," Critias said, watching the blood drain from Jinto's face. "We came as allies offering aid. We were treated as subjects of study and used as a control mechanism for the Erebus without our permission. The stress of protecting us from the adverse effects of the Erebus as well as effects of the pocket of subspace for so long would be enough to cause such a change."
The boy swallowed thickly, ducking his head in dejected silence.
"Oh," he murmured just loud enough for Teyla to hear. "I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for, kid," Hermocrates said suddenly, his voice warmer and friendlier than Critias'. "You didn't do anything. Besides," he grinned and winked at the boy's shy gaze, "it's good to see kids in the city again. Kids are just saner than adults."
"Further proof that you are indeed still a hatchling," Critias said, the tension easing from his shoulders.
"Say that again, you arrogant wings-for-brains!" Hermocrates hissed, glaring at Critias back in annoyance.
"Why? Did you not hear me the first time?" Critias asked calmly, turning his head to the brunette. "Perhaps you should get your ears checked as well as your claws."
"You-"
Teyla blinked, unsure of what she just heard come out of Hermocrates' mouth. It sounded like a mesh of syllables and consonants in a language she had never heard before. But it was clearly a word or series of words because Critias seemed to understand it. The man's eyes gleamed and he smirked victoriously.
"Such vulgar language," he taunted. "There are hatchlings present."
Hermocrates hissed, then jerked in surprise, a sly grin worming its way onto his face. "I thought you said I was a hatchling. Are you taking that back?" he asked, pleased with himself.
"Apparently your ears do need to be checked," Critias replied easily. "'Hatchlings' is plural."
Hermocrates' ochre eyes widened in shock a split second before narrowing. It took a moment for Teyla to recognize that Hermocrates' eyes had actually narrowed. The black pupil changed from a perfect circle to a vertical slit that was wide and predatory. She knew from sensing Timaeus that these people were not Human, but she hadn't realized they were so far from Human that they were hiding their true appearance.
She wondered what they truly looked like. Surely it couldn't be as terrible as a Wraith.
"Winged bastard," Hermocrates growled.
"Control yourself, hatchling," Critias said with a lazy grin. "You're scaring our hosts."
His gaze slid to her, and something behind her. She felt the presence next to her moments before Maj. Sheppard appeared in her peripheral vision. She turned to him and saw her own wary surprise reflected on his face.
The major's hazel eyes were wide with shock, his fingers grasping his weapon but not quite raising it in an active threat. "What the hell?" he breathed.
Jinto gulped and backed up a step. Immediately, Hermocrates' furious expression faded to something more akin to shame. The pupils of his eyes returned to a more Human round shape and he ducked low over Timaeus bed, as if trying to make himself appear smaller, less of a threat.
"What in the hell are you?" Sheppard demanded.
The brunette shut his mouth and dropped his gaze to the floor, choosing to remain silent. Critias also kept his silence, though he did look away. He held the major's gaze with a calm strength that held the promise of a threat. Teyla could see no visible weapons on the men other than their swords, which no one had reached for yet. But she knew better than most how often weapons could be made from everyday objects. A broken stick could kill as effectively as a blade.
"Are you Wraith?" Jinto asked, fear making his voice quake.
"They are not," Teyla said, taking a chance and approaching the group so she stood next to Jinto. She could hear the major follow behind her as she did so. Placing a hand on Jinto's shoulder, she offered him a reassuring smile. "I would have warned you if they were."
The boy swallowed but nodded, trusting her. Teyla was one of the few Athosians who could sense the Wraith. They served as an early warning system for their people, often giving them a enough time to seek a safe place to hide before a culling. Her word was trusted.
"We are not Wraith," Critias confirmed, studying her in quiet contemplation. After a few seconds, his midnight blue eyes shifted to the same slit-pupiled appearance that had alarmed them before. "Do the Wraith have eyes like these?"
"They do," Teyla said, nodding. "Though I have never seen a Wraith with blue eyes before."
What could pass as a smirk tugged at the corners of Critias' mouth. "They are yellow then," he said. Behind him Hermocrates' form drooped dejectedly. Critias glanced at his companion before sighing. "We are not Wraith, but we are not Human either. Does that make you uncomfortable?"
Major Sheppard rolled his shoulders in indecision. "A little," he admitted. "But I'm… getting used to it. Kind of."
"Get used to it quicker," Critias snapped coldly. "Holding these forms can be tiring, especially for Hermos. He's younger than he looks."
"Oi," his friend grumbled, glaring at Critias' shoes in mild irritated. "I'm not that young."
"I'm sorry," Sheppard said, shaking his head. "Who?"
"Hermos."
Sheppard frowned. "Not Hermocrates?"
Critias' forehead crinkled in confusion but it was the brunette who spoke.
"It would be my name that gets butchered," he muttered, scratching his brown hair with his sharpened fingernails. "It's Hermos," he said louder, lifting his head just enough to look at them. "Whoever told you it was that," he waved vaguely, "weird whatever-it-was you said was dead wrong."
"They probably are dead," Critias said in an amicable tone as if he were discussing the weather.
Hermos hesitated, then pursed his lips and nodded. "Yeah, probably," he agreed, rubbing the back of his head. "Wow, that's going to take some getting used to."
"If I may ask," Teyla began, drawing both amber and blue gazes, "if you are not Human-"
"As you know we are not," Critias interrupted.
"-then what are you?" she finished. "Timaeus said you were from the Avalon galaxy."
"Avalon?" Sheppard gasped incredulously. "Like King Arthur? Merlin? Morgan le Fey? That Avalon? It's a galaxy?"
Hermos and Critias shared a look of bewilderment. "I have no idea what those other things are," Hermos said, "but yes, Avalon is a galaxy. The Lantean who originally inhabited this city were also from there."
"Debatably," Critias said.
"Well," Hermos stopped. Then waved, conceding the point. "Alright, true."
"Where is this Avalon?" Teyla asked.
"Are there Wraith there?" Jinto asked, finding his courage once again.
"Far from here," Hermos answered. "And no," he added to Jinto, "there are no Wraith there. At least," he looked up at Critias in concern, "there weren't last we were aware."
"If we were to show you a star map, would you be able to identify it?" Teyla asked.
Critias scowled cautiously. "Why?"
"We're from another galaxy too," Sheppard said. "We had enough power to Gate here, but not enough to get back."
"We're aware," Critias said.
"Sounds stupid if you ask me," Hermos said. "We only came here because the Lanteans promised to send us home when they were finished."
Critias spat something Teyla knew was very likely a curse but again wasn't in any language she recognized. But Hermos seemed to agree with the sentiment if the enthusiastic agreement was anything to go by.
"What language is that?" Jinto asked. "It sounds funny."
"Your language sounds funny to us, too, you know," Hermos said, with a teasing grin. "Actually," he sat up and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, "so does our language, now that I think about it. It really is hard to talk correctly with this mouth."
"The vocal chords aren't right," Critias said, leaning back against Timaeus' bed and crossing his arms, appearing wholly at ease. "The range of sound is too limited."
"There's that," Hermos said. "But also, the whole…" He gestured at his whole body. "Everything is just weird. Two legs? Hair? Ears?" He shook his head in wry amusement.
Teyla caught the flicker of amber in her direction and Teyla began to suspect this bickering was a display meant to lower the tension in the room. Should she take their words seriously? If so, then it did make her wonder what sort of creatures had more or less than two legs, no hair, and no ears. If she was not meant to take the words seriously, then it left her further in the dark regarding these strange men.
"Having two legs is weird?" Jinto asked shyly.
"For me anyway," Hermos said, raising a hand and shifting where he sat on Timaeus bed. He pointed his thumb at Critias next to him. "He's more familiar with it than I am."
Critias shrugged. "I'm older."
"By a few years," Hermos groused, glaring at his friend without any real heat. He smirked. "Grandpa."
Midnight blue flashed, the slit pupils widening slightly as Critias slowly turned his head to Hermos. "Hatchling."
Hermos rolled his eyes but didn't rise to the bait this time. Instead, he kicked his legs back and forth through the air between the bed and the floor childishly. It was such an unexpectedly innocent motion that it caught Teyla off guard. A quick glance at Sheppard assured her that she was not the only one puzzled by this.
It occurred to Teyla that, up until this moment, she had been basing her entire view of these people on Timaeus alone. Timaeus may have been her first point of contact, but he had been all she had to go on then. Timaeus had been mature, quiet, contemplative, and wary but when he saw his skills were needed, he had offered his assistance without ever asking for payment. He was honorable and even friendly to a degree.
Of those traits, only Critias struck her as the closest equivalent. The blonde man was by far more mature than Hermos. He was reserved and wary but his tongue was sharp and his words could be downright vicious.
Hermos, on the other hand, was approachable and spoke with little thought given to filtering his words. He smiled readily and teased Critias with the familiarity of a long friendship. He was also much younger than Critias and possibly even Timaeus in maturity if not literal age.
That being said, both Hermos and Critias had expertly avoided answering any questions regarding their race, their home, or their language. Just like Timaeus. They also knew things only she and Timaeus spoke of. Perhaps, if she wanted them to trust her, she should be the first to extend a hand.
"Do you trip a lot?" Jinto asked, startling the half-formed question from Teyla's mind.
"Oh yeah," Hermos said fervently. "My center of balance isn't where it's supposed to be. I have to constantly adjust my stance to keep from falling over."
Critias sighed heavily. "You fell flat on your face when you came through the Stargate," he said, earning him a not-so-subtle jab in the side by Hermos' elbow.
"I did not," the brunette argued, glowering at the blond. "I stumbled. I did not fall." Suddenly, he grinned. "At least I didn't slide across the floor like you did that one time back-"
Hermos suddenly found his mouth sealed shut by one of Critias' hands, the long nails digging into his tan cheeks.
"You swore you would never speak of that," Critias hissed in indignation.
Jinto edged closer, drawn by the friendly comradery. "What happened?" he asked. "Why did you slide across the floor?"
"I did not slide across the floor!" the blonde cried, struggling to keep his hold on Hermos' squirming body.
His grip slipped and Hermos managed to get his mouth free. "He totally botched his landing," he said gleefully, ignoring the embarrassed sound from his friend. "Just skidded clear across the ice." He gasped and freed his mouth once more. "Hit a wall and-"
"You hit a wall?" Jinto gasped, moving closer.
"So graceful."
That was the last Hermos managed to get out before his mouth was sealed shut once more by a flustered Critias.
"I will push you from the balcony," Critias threatened. Hermos rolled his eyes dramatically. "Timaeus won't stop me," Critias swore. "I'll push you right into the water."
Perhaps Teyla's initial assessment of Critias' maturity was a bit too optimistic.
When Hermos relaxed, Critias finally released his hold. "You know," he said, with a sly grin, "of the two of us, you'd probably struggle the most in the water."
This time, Critias glare could have burned Hermos alive where he sat.
"You can't swim?" Jinto asked. "I can teach you!"
Caught off guard by the Athosian boy's cry, Critias stiffened and spun around, focusing his wide-eyed gaze on Jinto. Without regard for his safety or the seriousness of the situation, Jinto rushed passed Critias and grabbed Hermocrates arms. Pushing himself up to his tiptoes, Jinto stared at the brunette's eyes with a brilliant smile.
"I love swimming!" Jinto babbled excitedly. "Can you swim too? Awesome. Can we teach him together? My dad taught me how to swim. I'm sure my dad could help too."
Critias had given up arguing and chosen to bury his face in his hands. As Jinto continued to talk, he removed one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. Teyla could still see the tell-tale hints of a truly impressive blush from under the man's hand. It brought a smile to her face.
Sometimes, children were the best at breaking down barriers. She turned to the major and chuckled at the discombobulated expression on his face. She couldn't remember ever seeing the Atlantean so thoroughly befuddled.
"Okay," Sheppard murmured. "This is… not what I expected." He looked around the room. "Where's Dr. Beckett?"
"In the corner," she said.
She pointed to the far side of the room where the good doctor sat at his work station. The man was currently staring at something on his worktable through a magnifying glass. It must be interesting if the nonsense taking place over here hadn't distracted him. No longer concerned about Jinto interacting with Hermos and Critias, Teyla nudged Sheppard towards the doctor.
"Doctor Beckett," she said, startling the man. Bright blue eyes lifted from the table to her face and she smiled. "May we speak with you?"
"Oh, yes of course," he said, standing and tugging the gloves off of his hands. "Major," he nodded to Sheppard. "Is Dr. Weir coming?"
"Not right now," Sheppard said, glancing back over his shoulder briefly. "She's working on a few things up in Ops first." He frowned. "Why? What is it?"
"Well, remember when Timaeus first came in earlier?" the doctor asked. "I tried to have some blood drawn."
"Yeah, you said his skin bent the needle," the major said.
Startled, Teyla turned to Sheppard with wide eyes. "I was unaware of this," she said.
Sheppard shook his head. "A lot was happening," he said.
"Yes," Dr. Beckett said. "I assumed his skin was resistant to piercing damage because of that. Well, it appears I might have made that call too early." His looked down at what Teyla recognized to be a phial of blood on the table. "Because when I tried it again, there was no resistance."
Sheppard approached the table carefully. "None? At all?"
"None beyond what I would normally expect from human skin," Dr. Beckett confirmed. "I haven't had much time to examine it yet, but I can tell you this." He glanced at Timaeus still resting on the medical bed. "Timaeus, and I'd be willing to bet his two friends as well, has a much cooler body temperature than we do. If he were a human, I'd have diagnosed him as hypothermic."
Teyla frowned. "Hypothermic?"
"Medical term," Sheppard explained. "I's what happens when the body gets dangerously cold."
"Ah. Why would his body temperature be so low?" she asked.
Dr. Beckett shook his head, apparently at a loss. "I don't know," he admitted. "It's too early to tell. Not without asking them directly, which I'm not sure would be well received yet."
"They seem to be pretty active for hypothermic lizards," the major commented.
"Lizards?" the doctor repeated, puzzled.
The major pointed to his eyes. "Their eyes. They're like a cat's."
"They do?" Dr. Beckett blinked in surprise. "Timaeus' eyes seemed normal when I checked. "What's that got to do with lizards?"
Sheppard shrugged. "Just the stuff they said about scales, four legs, hatching, wings…" He spread his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Lizards," the doctor murmured, obviously not paying attention any longer. He sat back down at his table and reached for a nearby notebook and began scrawling in it in his illegible handwriting. All the while muttering "Lizards" under his breath.