Michael's Hope 2
She knows that walk. Even with the hood, he can not hide that physique. She knows that pain in her chest, but now feels it somewhere else as well. She knew she couldn't hide for ever…. Yet she had to try.
He stops and turns towards the house where she rents a room. Then he looks up at the second story window. No, he can't see her, but still she is frozen in place. Striding forward in all confidence, he approaches the door, dropping the hood. Without warning, thrusts the door open easily enough. Now she moves! Aiming for the back staircase, she is almost out the back door when an arm snakes out and around her waist. Hesitantly, forces her hard against his chest. His mouth lowers to her ear and whispers,
"It worked," and fans his hand over their child. It's not a touch of anger, more of awe. Still he is confused to her actions and asks again while caressing their unborn, "Why?"
Dropping her head, lays a hand gently on his, "No."
{Who are you?} This time he begs.
{Nobody,} she pleas. He doesn't move or ask another question. She tries to pry his hand off, but it only makes him cup the second hand bellow the rounding bulge.
Nuzzling her nape he tries to get her to acquiesce, "I've been searching for months for you. Please, tell me." Her head only shakes sadly, still trying fruitlessly to push the upper hand away. The child kicks, he strokes back with his thumb to the innocent life.
{What is your name?}
{Eve} They both know that was not the name she was given, but what she calls herself now.
Tenderly his hands release the child and turn the mother by her shoulders. The voice of a commander, a brooding commander, "Are you a spy?" He waits to feel the truth.
"No," he can feel the truth to that statement but something held back.
His temper has run out. This female has torn his world to shreds by making love to him and making him feel emotions he had no idea existed and then ripped them away making him search for her like… like … His eyes turn angry as his grip is painful on her chin making her look right at him, "Why should I not kill you?!"
The tears flow down her cheeks. She knows he is not really angry at her, but at how he FEELS for her. Once again pleading for him to give up on her, "Please Michael, let me go."
The commander is taking over the hurt entity, "Why should I?!"
She yanks her chin away from his grasp. Even through his seething, he can see she is not going to run. Taking a step back, her fists begin to clench. Her own anger is finally coming out, "You and I are the same!"
"I don't think so!" He snorts back.
Snatching his hand, she slaps it onto the back of her neck, seething, "Feel that!" He knows that's where the disabled implant still lies under the skin. When his eyes register the object, she throws his hand aside and back to her place a few paces from him, "I was captured and tortured by the Wraith. When they had all their fun, decided to let me go. Ha!" Her laugh is anything but amused. "The bastards even were kind enough to drop me off back at home. Really? Really?" She takes a moment to breathe before continuing.
Michael is silent listening to her story. This was far more than he was ever able to get from her in little amount of time they had onboard his ship. He's hoping that somewhere in this story will be the answer to his own problems.
Eve wraps her arms around her self, "My people wouldn't take me back. They called me a Wraith worshiper and shunned me. Not even my husband whom I knew since childhood. I was abandoned. Cast out. Thrown aside." Her body shivers. Another rueful laugh, "My savior was being captured again by a different hive? To be fed on and die? Oh no, nothing so wonderful. I was a toy. A mouse for the cat."
Looking right at him makes her point of where they are alike, "Rejected by my people who were later wiped out. My soul mate couldn't even stand the sight of me. And now, I wasn't even good enough to fuel the Wraith. My life was worthless." Then she leans in and snaps, "At least the Atlantians were trying to SAVE you!" She turns her back on him. The tears should have been gone and over with by now, but her hormones were reeking havoc with the scent of him so close welling them back up. Knowing exactly what she did to him. Used him and cast him aside, only to regret it herself. Eve needed Michael more than she ever realized … until now.
"Why?" he asks softly again. They both know the fullness of the question: why did she need his seed?
Softly she whispers to the window, "Life."
Stepping up behind her, but not touching her, he asks for more information, "What?"
Some how finding the strength to turn, looks into his confused eyes, "You were my last chance of getting a life. Not just my own, but a reason to survive. So I would never be alone again. Now… will you let me go?"
His eyes go wide in pain, "So you want to abandon me too? Use me and leave? You are no better than any of them." Stepping back in anger, flings a hand at her. "GO!" With that walks right out the door not even looking back. His walk is still bold, commanding and assertive. People clear a path as he walks through the crowded marketplace. Only she notices the slightest slump to his shoulders.
His retort was like a slap to the heart. Reaching, she tries, {I'm sorry} But the damage was done and the truth lay out there. Her plans to use him, back fired. She needed him more than she ever thought. Maybe it was her brain trying to flee while her heart was trying to cling. One last look to his back before it makes the turn, the same war he was having within. He was gone.
Looking down, Eve caresses the child. Weather it was a fit of passion or love the child was created in a fit of need for them both. Watching, the Dart rises above the town, it screams away. The same high pitch scream her heart emits to her brain while the child thrashes in the loss of his father's touch.
Eve sinks to the bench, "You are no better than any of them…" his words haunt her. He was right.
~~~000~~~
The months pass. The child grows. As the time is drawing near, she knows the child is at risk. How much Wraith DNA will it have?
Moving to a new planet and town again, this time very remote. And a new name. Fresh water, Good shelter. A town within a day's travel, if she needs it, but far enough away to be a hermit.
Today was one of those days that she needed the town. A chance to overstock on supplies knowing her time was drawing extremely close. And then she sees them.
Why is she afraid? They don't know her. Swiftly gathering her loaded cart, nudges her goat to take it home. She's almost made it to her path, when the pains hit.
Well, that was a lie. They had been coming and going all day, but this one was different. This one made her gasp and stumble.
Sheppard saw her. Tapping Keller, they come closer, "Ma'am, do you need help?"
Eve shakes her head. Another pain answers rebuts that answer. Sheppard takes the goat's lead, Keller tries to support Eve. The laboring woman shoves them aside, "Let me go."
"We only want to help. I'm a doctor."
Eve sneers in Michael's defense, "I know exactly who you are: Atlantians!"
Sheppard tries to ease, "Then you know we come in peace."
Eve snorts, "Not always." But the next pain leaves her no choice but to lean on their support. Refusing to let Sheppard carry her, and guided by the doctor's support, Eve makes her way to the cabin with them.
Sheppard takes care of the supplies and cart while Keller helps Eve inside. Trying as best she can to get answers about family, husband and such, Eve is more resilient: says nothing.
The baby arrives before Sheppard has to be embarrassed for intruding. Keller calls to him with a warried voice. Eve is adamant, "Give me my son!"
Keller doesn't, Sheppard arrives. "Look," the doctor is surprised and very concerned.
Once again the protective mother orders, "Give me my son!"
While handing over the infant, Sheppard gives Keller the it can't be -look.
Eve clutches the infant to her chest and scoots off the bed. Keller, still shocked, tries to reason with the woman, "You need to rest."
Eve digs into her bag at the corner of the room, "I don't trust you." A weapon appears in her hand aimed right at Sheppard, "Back off."
Sheppard raises his hands, "Wai-" Two shots, both Atlantians are stunned and down.
Coming round, Keller and Sheppard find they are tied back to back sitting on the floor. The sound of a humming voice draws their attention. Eve is sitting in a rocking chair nursing her son soothing him with her song. Keller asks in true professional tone, "Are youalright?" No response. She tries again, "What is his name?"
Just then, a shadow darkens the doorway. Eve freezes. "Mickhale." The voices says in Eve's native tongue. Her chin wavers. The commander ignores the captured soldiers and continues towards his family. Stopping just before them, Eve whispers:
"I'm so sorry."
His palm grazes across her cheek, "I know." With a touch to his gauntlet, the three of them are gone.
Sheppard asks Keller, "Did I just see Michael?"
Keller is also shocked, "I thought I was hallucinating."
Back aboard the ship, the family beams in. Scooping Eve and son into his arms, says nothing blocking her probe to his emotions. Arriving at his room, lays them down. His voice maybe calm, but it was an order with no compassion, "Rest." Turning, leaves her alone, locking the door behind him.
Eve sighs and relaxes curling her son closer. He's so small and so delicate. Blond fuzz and undeveloped marks to his checks, so much like his father. She ponders (once again) how much of him will be hers.
Now a new fear, how long will Michael keep them… her? Curling tighter around her son, afraid to sleep and wake up to empty arms… again. She has no choice, the body has to recover and craving sleep. Her dreams are actually memories…
After fleeing his ship in a Dart, she reaches the first habitable planet. Crashing it into the ocean, swims to shore. Swiping clothes from the first laundry line she can find, buries the flight suit. It's a day's hike to the first large town.
The local inn keeper has pity on her and trades her maid/cook duties for a room. It only took a couple cycles of the moon for her to realize her night with Michael had been fruitful. Excited and yet terrifies, she says nothing.
One night, a particularly rowdy group at the inn gets to grouping and a bit more. When one male corners her behind the bar, she reaches under and pulls out the barkeep's gun.
"Back off." She orders.
Too drunk and too obnoxious to think straight, he cockily approaches again. She fires. The room goes quiet. Even the inn keeper who was serving drinks across the room turns to look in awe.
"I'm so sorry," she tells the proprietor. His face sags for her, she had every right and need not feel guilty. Still holding the weapon, she runs out the back door.
And does not stop running until she finds a stargate. By now, she has a few addresses that are safe. Well safe enough. Leaping through two more incase some one is tracking the signals, she finally settles on the third.
At the beginning of her third trimester, she leapt again and settled on the planet where she finally gave birth. All this time she had been doing fine. Healthy, providing for herself, no Wraith stalking her, no one getting too personal…
Until Michael showed up. She could feel the twisting knife in his heart she shove in. Likewise she felt the two he jammed into hers.
Michael watched her sleep beside his son recalling his own memories of searching for her. Repairing his ship from the attack that let her escape, gave him time to strategize a retaliation. He really couldn't afford a spare thought for a crazy female. But on the other hand, his bed scented by their coupling refused to release her from his heart or elicit dreams. It was agony. Even after stripping and burning the linens, it wasn't enough. Just laying in the bed and remembering how it felt to hold her warm sleeping form next to his… such comfort, something he had never known.
Looking at the dent in the wall where she tried to kill herself rather than let him dive into her mind and heart any further. This was not chamber of private solitude and rest. This was a gilded torture chamber of his own creation.
Roaring with rage at himself, tore the room apart. That still did no good. It was too late the damage had been done. Like a virus, her memory consumed his life.
The woman had challenged his will. She had touched emotions that he should not have. She would not leave his thoughts.
He had to have her back. He had to taste her on lips on his again. He needed to feed off her challenge of wills. His body craved her touch like and drug. He needed their intoxication coating him again. He had to have her back. What a queen she would make at his side as king.
The search began. Long and hard. Drove his ship and crew to the brink.
Michael found Eve. No, them. A son. A life. HIS! Oh who could he praise? Right there under his touch a life that they created. He caresses his gift to the universe. A miracle that he didn't even plan or fathom was possible. He beamed with pride and-
No. To his horror, she did not want him. She only wanted… The evil witch. What a hypocrite. After everything she had been through and trying to say they were the same? But she was no different that any of the rest of them. Fine! Good riddance of the witch! If he could seed one female, he certainly could find another willing to take her place. If not compliantly than one to unleash his wrath upon!
It was no good. The moment a new female worshiper was presented before him, naked and ready, he was not. He was not prepared for his own reaction. A writhing, crooning, lusting healthy female melting before him… and he couldn't touch her. His body had no desire to perform. She disgusted his very thoughts.
With a turn of his back, (without even touching the wanton worshiper) left the room and vomited. No, there was only one his body would accept. There was only one that would ever grace his thoughts pleasantly. He roared again in pure frustration and rage. He had to have Eve and their son. No one else would ever be enough. Damn the witch.
He began the search again. There she was asking for forgiveness with their son as a peace offering. The logic and heart began the vicious war within himself again. Screaming he was sure he would loose his very sanity. Damn her!
Tenderly, he touched the place where his son nuzzled up to his mother. Michael's hand stilled when she began to stir whispering his name warmly. Careful not to wake her, lays a hand on her brow hoping to see her thoughts. They were just as tortured.
As Eve's months progressed away from Michael's last encounter, she began to realize maybe her fear of him had been justified. But so was her passion for him. As their son stirred, she couldn't help but recall the passionate night. It had been a fierce battle of wills with each other and with themselves. She could feel his desire for her. She had to agree, there was something more than his male verilness that was attractive.
Michael brought out a strength Eve had nearly forgotten she had. And yet his kisses weakened her further than she had ever been before. Not even her husband could melt her this way.
And when he showed up again just after birthing their offspring of pain and passion: All those emotions slammed her at once. Fear. Desire. Need to flee. Need to be encompassed. Love and hate… was this heaven or hell?
Michael's hand slipped away shaking.
~~00~~~
Two days and Michael hadn't come to see her. The guards brought her food and supplies without a word. Always locking the door as they left.
Curling around her growing son again, nurses him in his clean swaddling linens. The door opens, but she ignores the person, focusing only on her son. From the door way, he watches. Mickhale grasps Eve's littlest finger while gorging on his nectar.
"It's okay Mickhale. Momma's here. You just grow strong like your Daddy." Now she looks up smiling to the brooding form in the doorway. He doesn't change his reaction to her smile, even though inside he is bristling. Then his heart betrays his anger and accepts her smile.
{I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I was wrong to …}
The yellow eyes bore into her, kicking his heart aside. Anger takes back over and projects back it's feelings {How DARE you ask me for forgiveness!} It was also directed at his own heart for feeling weak and wanting to take her back.
Turning on one heal, thrusts his finger and orders at the guard, "She does NOT leave this room!" The guard nods. Michael leaves. Eve's emotions plummet clutching her son tighter.
Later that afternoon Even wakes from her nap. The first thing she notices is the little bundle of warmth and love is missing. Jerking upright panic screams from all her senses. Looking to the only entrance to the room, sighs. Michael is cradling their son next to the door.
Then a new feeling comes over her: dread with a hint of awe seeing him ever so tenderly rocking the miracle infant.
"Michael…" her tone is slow and carefully not moving an inch from the bed, terrified she will flee with the baby leaving her alone again.
Not looking at her, he remains fixated on what is in his arms, "I will not harm my son."
Once more she tries carefully, "What about his mother?" Michael doesn't answer or move, keeping his emotions blocked from her as well. Eve tries again, "What am I to you? A wet nurse?" His swaying freezes.
Taking a chance, rises to her feet. Taking a couple steps forward, tries again, "Michael?" He holds out a hand to stop her, but she doesn't. She walks her chest right into his hand. Keeping her tone soft for the sake of the infant, tries once again. Not just for the fragile infant, but for the fragile ground to their relationship. "Look at us. We don't know each other. We don't trust each other. We don't even know ourselves." Michael says nothing just removing his hand to draw the infant tighter to his chest. Not moving, she pushes the issue on, "Look at him. What is going to happen to Mickhale? Is he safer on a planet of ridicule and fear or a ship of war and hate?"
Michael drops his block just a little to let her feel he is listening even if not responding. Eve stokes the child's head, "Who is he safer with? You a warrior king hunted and hunting? Or me, barely able to protect herself?"
Reaching a firm hand out, grasps her chin and hisses quietly to keep from disturbing the infant but letting the mother feel his full anger, "Why did you do this to me?!"
Now she feels it. His wall crumbles even though the grip is painful. Now she understands: she broke him. He had been in control. The arrogant, smart and powerful foe to this galaxy and she had ruined him. For so long he had dished out his resentment and anger against Wraith and Atlantian alike. So used to being in control of his emotions and his life.
But when she entered his life, he realized how little control he had over some insignificant emotions. New emotions had also come to life. But when had she broken through and entered his life? Was it when she pounced him? Was it when she tried to flee? Was it when she ignited that passion the second time and he couldn't resist? Or was it when she bit him and his body rebelled against his rules and gave into her plead?
Pulling his shirt aside at the shoulder, there it was. In spite of his regenerative abilities, there it was. The mark where she hand sunk her dull teeth into the ball of his shoulder stealing blood and seed from his body. Like a tattoo, it was deep enough, it will forever remain.
The baby is slipped into her arms and he slips from the room without another word. She still doesn't have any answers, but now she knows, neither does he.
Later that night, Eve tries opening the door again. Still locked. No chance of breaking out. Still standing there, too door opens. He cocks a curious brow at her while she backs up, "Leaving?"
At a reasonable distance, she holds her ground an speaks boldly, "Looking for you."
Searching her mind, "Why?"
Crossing her arms, her tone becomes sincere, "Because, we need to talk."
Circling her asks again in the same tone, "Why?"
"You and I are asking the same question."
Coming back to the door he leans against it, folding his arm. Eve sinks to the bed, "Michael, why are you keeping me. Why in this room?"
"Trust," he throws at her.
"Who's? Yours or mine?" the tone mocks.
Snarking back, "That wasn't fair."
She flicks a finger to the locked door, "Oh and that is?"
"You ran out on me last time when I was ready to talk."
She shrugs, "Alright. Fine, I'll go first." First she lays their sleeping son down. This part of the conversation was not about him, just the couple. Taking a breath looks right at the older male forever a part of her life weather he agrees or not.
"Michael, I'm afraid of you," he actually huffs a rueful smile. Plunging on she gives him the other half, "On the other hand I want to be with you." He shows no reaction to her holding his telepathic block. He has to, inside his mind is raging to touch her tenderly and soothe her.
Pushing on, she narrows her gaze, "But I have to know: What am I to you?" He tries to look away, personal wall crumbling. She won't give up now, "You have to be honest with me, because I am now. I am not a spy. Like I told you earlier, I am nobody." Her hands twist because he won't look at her. "I'm not a warrior, a mole, or an infiltrator. I'm just an abandoned wife and schoolteacher with nothing. I'm just trying to find a way to live."
Now for the dangerous part. She drops her voice with the questions that could get her killed and her son motherless, "What are you? Why are you making this war? What are you going to do if you win? How do you plan to live? Do you really want all this?" Slowly with each question his head had turned a little more to her. Her last question was like knives, "Don't you want peace?" His head drops to focus on his boots.
Running his hands through his hair, tries to gather his thoughts. Eve was afraid he was going to bolt, again. She feels him pull part of the block down.
Confusion. Mostly with himself but also with her. Fear of her leaving him alone. The words are whispered, "I knew what I wanted before I met you. I knew what I was doing before you. I knew everything before you. I didn't care for any one or any thing …. Before you." He looks to his sleeping innocent son, "And now Mickhale."
Finally he looks at her, "And you." As her desire to pull him close, wrapping her arms around him pulses, his gaze flits to the star filled window. "You have destroyed everything. You have scattered my plans, redirected my focus, shattered my …." He huffs a deep breath, "I've never had anyone in my heart or my mind and it need more, yet I need to purge you." Glancing back, "You have messed up my life." Back to the window, "I don't know what I want. I have no idea what I want to do with you or myself anymore." Another swipe through his hair, "I can't plan any more. I have only the here and now on my forefront. I can't think past holding you both and just watching you. Feeling you both alive under my hands, tasting your lips…"
With each word his wall to her fell. Now, he was laid bare. She held nothing back either. He couldn't move afraid of her trying to escape or worse, refuse him.
Instead, Eve slowly stands up and comes to him. He doesn't move. Curling a finger under his chin, lifts it and locks her hazel eyes to his yellow ones, "I had nothing before you." Slipping her arms around his chest, lays her head into the crook. A huge sigh comes from him feeling her compassionate warmth surround and encompass him. He gives it all back.
{What are we going to do?} They both ask at the same time. Instead of grief or confusion, amusement comes. For the first time in a very long time they are thinking together. Even if it was without direction.
"Will you let us go?" The question was not in her running or fleeing. It was more of will he no longer see them as prisoners. Will they be free to come and go? She was unprepared for his answer.
Pressing his forehead to hers he asks right into her soul, "Will you let me stay with you?"
Curling a palms to his nape, pulls his lips to her hers answering the question.
a/n Okay so maybe it was a lousy ending. But seeing how she was a bit of a mystery, I left it for your imagination to continue. Besides, I hadn't a clue where else to go with this. I plan at least 2 more SG-A. Marsh (for Major Scott Lorren)and Carly (I'll leave that as a surprise.) They are a different style than these. I may have one for Zalinka I've been puttering with as well.