Ch2:
Aimee's Perspective
Not that my life isn't great, because to tell you the truth it's pretty darn awesome, but sometimes I just feel as if it's… lacking something, if you know what I mean.
Lacking as in its boring. Boring beyond compare. Nothing ever happens. I go to school. I do my homework. I practice the viola. I go to bed. Then I wake up and it starts all over again. Every day for as far back as I can remember is pretty much the same as the last, and the day before that, and the day before that.
Except for… nighttime. And my dreams.
I look forward to sleeping more than I probably should. I mean, that's what they say, isn't it? Don't dwell on dreams or whatever. You could go crazy. But the dreams… they give me this really creepy rush; a sudden boost of energy, a feeling of power as if I could do anything in the world and no one could stop me… even though all throughout the dream I can hear people screaming somewhere in the background, somewhere not in my little bubble of euphoria.
And when I wake up, my skin doesn't feel right, like I'm in the wrong shape or something, or maybe even the wrong species… because sometimes in my dreams, I catch a glimpse of stars, and not how they look from the ground, like how they look in all of those science fiction shows on TV.
I like to imagine I'm an alien some days.
The name's Aimee, by the way. Aimee Beckett.
Carson's Perspective
Carson watched the wraith's eyelids flicker, lost somewhere in the virtual reality created just for her. McKay had thought it would be funny to have her last name be Beckett, like his, because according to him, Carson spent most of his time in there; checking on the machines hooked up to her, making sure she wouldn't wake up and didn't feel a single twinge of pain from retrovirus.
If someone didn't know about Aimee's true species, they would have mistaken her for a human, and even then…
As Carson left the room, heading towards his quarters, he bumped into Weir (literally) as he was turning a corner.
"Sorry! I didn't see you there, Dr. Weir," He said, jumping out of her way. Weir smiled,
"That's fine," They both started to walk in opposite directions, but then Weir's voice rang out behind him, "How is the experiment doing?"
Carson flinched. He had known that she would eventually get around to asking that, and he'd have to answer honestly. The truth was, Carson didn't like the experiment. He didn't like lying to people, even though many days it was necessary, and he didn't like hurting people, especially children, even it was a wraith.
"Very well, actually. I'm planning to wake her up tomorrow… without Ronan in the room. Just myself, and Teyla, since she seemed to be able to calm Michael a bit… and probably a few other key personnel… I'm still trying to figure out what to tell her."
"Not the truth, yet."
"No. Not yet. We'll have to wait and see how she does…" He trailed off and they started on their separate ways; Carson once again wondering why he'd wanted to do this again…
Aimee's Perspective
Eighth grade.
Who here's gone through eighth grade? Don't be shy, raise your hands, and be proud that you survived. I'm in eighth grade right now; I'm the one of the oldest kids in school, I survived past sixth and seventh grades.
People lie when they tell you that sixth grade is hard because it's such a big transition. All those teachers are looking out for you, making sure you know which way you're going, how to unlock your locker, making sure middle school is just the best time ever for you. Seventh grade is okay too, it's all downhill, easy peasy.
It's not sixth grade or seventh grade you have to worry about.
It's eighth grade.
We're thrown into eighth grade, expected to be brilliant role models… all the while worrying night and day about high school; all those tests you have to take (and pass) if you want to get in. It's stressful, man, I'm telling you!
But right now, I would give anything to be back in stressful eighth grade, back in my boring old life, living each day for the dreams that came at night, instead of here.
One moment I'm blissfully walking the halls of school heading towards P.E. when, and it's almost as if I'm waking up, I find myself here; strapped to a hospital bed, in a room that looks strangely familiar, a place that brings me feelings of fear and sad resignation, surrounded by people who look strangely familiar… but not at the same time.
"Doctor Beckett, I believe she is awake." One of them said.
Doctor Beckett! Wow, that's just like my dad's name-
A person steps into view, and I gasp.
"Dad!"
Carson's Perspective
Carson sighs.
Damn. McKay took this too far. Giving her the same last name as me… but making her believe I'm her dad? Aye, that's too far.
Carson and Teyla exchanged glances.
What was he going to tell Dr. Weir?