Chapter 7

A deep ache throbbed through the right side of his face as Kanaan slowly woke. He tried to lick his dry lips, but his jaw ached far too much for him to open his mouth enough. Everything was quiet around him and he opened his eyes to a low dark ceiling above him. He shifted his body slowly, becoming aware of more aches and pains, but this time he forced himself to move. He groaned as he finally opened his aching jaw and licked his dry lips. He tasted a touch of blood to his lower lip. He struggled to sit up, his back and legs straining, and as he sat up he saw the wide slats around him. He had only been down to the Ancestor built containment cells once before, but he recognised them immediately. And he was on the inside.

The memories returned and his heart dropped. The painful memory of Teyla pointing the stunner at him as he felt his body cease up from its affects would not be an image he would forget. The look of anger and fear in her eyes had been only superseded by his own sense of shock and betrayal at her actions. He let out a sigh, aware that the back of his ribs ached with the movement. Of course she would react that way, for she was a warrior and thoroughly assimilated by Earth culture. He had been a fool to think he could reason with her. He should have listened to Tolim and simply stunned her and taken her with them to Michael.

A sound across the room caught his attention and he looked through the left side of the cell to see a dark shape leant against the wall. For a moment Kanaan felt a flush of fear – had Colonel Sheppard stayed to finish their fight? And with that another thought occurred to him - once he had been stunned that would have left Teyla alone with what Sheppard had become. Had she stunned Sheppard as well? Had he tried to attack her?

The shadow shifted across the room, stepping into the down lit lighting of the room, and Kanaan felt nervous again. It was Ronon. The tall powerful man had a dark glare on his face, his arms crossed over his chest, in one hand of which he held his energy weapon. Kanaan glanced at the colour at the back end of the weapon, but could not recall if one colour meant stun and the other kill. Though, surely Mr Woolsey would not leave him alone in here with Ronon if his intention was to harm him.

Kanaan swung his legs down off the bench he had been lying on, which possibly accounted for the chill in his back. He carefully stood upright, waiting for the feeling of torn muscles to make themselves known, but it wasn't as bad as he had expected. Maybe the cold bench had helped somewhat.

Ronon moved forward another step, out of the direct light above him and back into half shadows. Kanaan wasn't sure what to say.

"Should I be asking you to spare my life, Ronon?" He asked.

The answer was a deep silence.

"I had my reasons, Ronon," he found himself explaining. "I regret that those choices meant that I had to keep things from you." He had counted Ronon as a friend over the past year, for he had been one of only few in the city who had taken the time to get to know him. Ronon had made being in Atlantis that little bit easier.

Ronon didn't answer, but Kanaan could see him clenching his jaw, and his fist tightened around his stunner.

"I know you do not agree with my choices, Ronon, but I would have thought you of all people could understand how important it is to bring an end to Wraith culling. You lost your entire planet to them," Kanaan moved across the cell closer to him. "Surely you can understand that I will do anything to keep my people, and my son, safe from the same threat?"

"By joining Michael?" Ronon asked sarcastically.

"Yes. He wants to become better than simply a Wraith. He wants to stop the need for culling, to bring peace to our home galaxy, Ronon."

"The only kind of peace Michael wants," Ronon stated as he moved right up close to the other side of the cell's horizontal bars. "Is the peace after everyone's dead. It's peaceful on Sateda, because there's no one left."

"It is that kind of situation that Michael will help us to prevent," Kanaan pushed.

Ronon shook his head. "I really don't care what you think. What I care about," he growled through clenched teeth as he pressed right up to the bars. Kanaan wondered how close he would have to get to trigger the force field, or perhaps Ronon didn't care. "Is what you did to Teyla."

Kanaan felt the chill pass over him. "I would never have hurt Teyla."

"You betrayed her, lied to her. You tricked her into keeping you around, so that you could run off to Michael with your son. You don't deserve to be Torren's father."

Kanaan knew that the words were said purely to hurt him, but try as he might he couldn't ignore the affect of them. "I love my son."

Ronon sneered and shook his head. "You're never going to see your son again. I'll make sure of that."

Kanaan tried to ignore the cold that ran through his body at the prospect of never seeing his son again. "Are you going to kill me, Ronon?"

Ronon glared at him. "Maybe."

Kanaan studied the man's eyes through the bars. "No, you won't kill me, because Teyla would not want you to." He remembered back during the fight with Sheppard when he had been pinned to the wall by his throat, his air leaving his body, Teyla had told Sheppard to stop. It was not in her nature to kill those who were defenceless. Kanaan was sure of Ronon's loyalty to Teyla, almost as if they were bloodkin, and surely he would not go against her like that by killing Kanaan.

"Just give me a reason to, Kanaan," Ronon stated.

That was the loophole though. Ronon would not go against Teyla's wishes, but if he had the right excuse…would he kill him? Kanaan looked into the taller man's eyes and saw nothing there but a clear promise. And anger. It was a potent combination that made Kanaan feel small and threatened on a basic instinctive level.

Ronon must have seen what he wanted to in Kanaan's face, for he turned away and moved to the exit.

"Ronon?" He called out to the man's back. "Will you give her a message for me?" Ronon kept walking. "Tell her that I would never have hurt her or Torren." The door opened ahead of Ronon and he disappeared from view, without a single glance back.

A guard's arm appeared across the doorway, triggering the door to close. It slid shut leaving Kanaan entirely alone, the room black outside his cell.

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Carson rubbed his eyes, desperately trying to focus his attention on the small screens before him. He reached for the mug of coffee by his laptop and sipped at the brew, only to discover that it was a lot colder than he had expected. He winced as he swallowed down the mouthful he had taken and set the mug aside. He should cut down on caffeine anyway. Though, tonight may not be the most ideal time to start.

He glanced up from the screens through the glass observation window to where John sat on the side of the bed. John sat still, as he had done through all the tests and scans, and though he had been the most ideal of patients in that regard, it was so unlike John. He sat now in that same position, his attention focused ahead. Focused through the opposite glass wall through which the observation room could be glimpsed and inside there Carson could see Teyla sat with her attention focused down at Torren in a carry cot.

She was sat forward, her chin in her hand and it pained Carson to see the look of strain to her expression. She had arrived to visit John a short time ago, waiting as the nurse finished the latest readings and checks. The nurse was currently at John's side taking another set of photos of his arms, documenting the development of Michael's serum. Carson already knew the pictures would be the same as those taken an hour ago. It appeared that the physical changes of the serum had reached a peak, and the relatively small areas of blue skin had stopping growing or darkening, but at the same time they hadn't decreased either.

"How is he, Doctor?" Mr Woolsey's voice shocked Carson out of his pondering and he was glad he hadn't been holding the coffee mug. He was extra pleased he hadn't finished the caffeine if he was already this jumpy.

"Mr Woolsey," he turned to the man as he entered to pause by his side, looking through the glass to where John sat. "He appears well enough. The changes to his body seem to have stopped and the catalysing agent is almost entirely gone from his system."

"Do I hear a but coming," Woolsey asked as he turned to Carson.

Carson tried not to show the frustration and annoyance at the situation, but it was late and it had been a stressful day. This was all hitting a little close to home for him and despite finding those responsible and stopping them, Carson couldn't shake the feeling of dread. Michael still lived. He cleared his throat and considered having some of the cold coffee.

"From what we can see the genes that were activated are not shutting down in the absence of the agent. It's possible that there was more to the agent that we assumed, it may be that once active these genes may remain so."

"But, you found the original serum Kanaan injected the Colonel with, that doesn't help you?" Woolsey pressed.

"Aye, it helps us, but there wasn't that much left in the syringe. We were able to analyse it, and we should be able to replicate some more to use for testing, but to be honest this is an entirely new level of genetic research for us. Michael's obviously been developing his research since I was rescued. I'm hopeful though that once we come to understand the serum and how it affects the genetic structure that we will be able to help the Colonel."

"How long will that take?"

Carson hated questions like that, because there was no real safe answer. "We're already testing some gene therapies on some cell samples taken from the Colonel. I'm hopeful that we can do something for him soon." He knew it was an unhelpful answer, but it was the truth.

"Can't you treat him like you did the last time?" Woolsey asked.

"This isn't like the retrovirus, these are his own genes and we can't simply replace them with inactive ones. Though, there are several treatments we can try. It's also entirely possible that given time his body might return to normal, if the genes return to their dormant state by themselves."

Mr Woolsey nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. Could you have a report drawn up for tomorrow morning? I need to update the SGC on the Colonel's status."

"Of course. How did they take the news about Michael?" Carson asked.

"As well as you can imagine. It's sparked off something of a disagreement among the ranks as best as I can tell. Some understand that we will need to return to Pegasus to find Michael and hope that he hasn't been up to anything too heinous whilst we've been gone. Others feel that Earth's position may have been compromised and that Atlantis is needed to protect Earth more than ever."

Carson nodded as he looked down at the screens of data before him. Michael may be a monster, but he was highly intelligent and if Kanaan was right then there were copies of Michael out there as well. Maybe that explained the advance in the genetic skills – how much could one person achieve when there were several versions of him working together? Once again Carson faced the disturbing thought as to whether there may be other versions of himself out there as well. Was there another Carson still enslaved by Michael, being forced to help develop this evil work?

"For now at least we have some intel on Michael," Woolsey continued.

"How is Tolim?" Carson asked. He had been wholly focused on John for the past few hours.

"He's stable and should make a full recovery, though perhaps it will be best to keep the Colonel down here and away from the Infirmary." Carson nodded his agreement. "And Kanaan's awake already. We should begin the interrogation tomorrow."

Carson could still hardly believe that the calm gentle seeming Kanaan had turned out to be a traitor. At first Carson had feared that his own treatments to return Kanaan and the other Athosians to their true selves following Michael's hybrid treatments had been responsible, but now it appeared that Kanaan had been in league with Michael even before the Athosians had been taken. Teyla had not said anything more than that, but it was clear to Carson that surely that knowledge would have been very hard for Teyla to hear. He looked through the isolation room to Teyla again. He wished he could do something for her, but what could he do other than be a friend for her. In many ways he felt he had already done far too much when it came to the subject of her people.

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Torren smiled up at her from his carry cot and she smiled down at him, tickling one of his feet. He grinned wider, innocent and ignorant of how his life had changed. He had barely grumbled after his ordeal, seeming more interested in his dinner, but then he was too young to understand what had happened. All he had understood was that those he loved had been upset and that he had been left alone for a short time. Had it felt like a short time to him? Maybe a few minutes alone had felt shockingly long to him. She hated to think he may have feared that no one would pick him up again, that he had been traumatised in any way, but he only smiled up at her now.

Surely he would wonder where his father had gone. Kanaan had spent almost more hours with Torren than her, so surely he would miss his father's presence? At least Torren was young and would not truly feel the impact of the betrayal. But, one day she would have to tell him when he was older. She would have to explain to Torren about Michael and about how his father had tried to steal him. She was glad that there would be many years until that day arrived – she had time to plan how to explain it all. For now he was safe and happy. She wished she could feel that way – that she could so simply move forward without lingering on the enormity of all that had been revealed. The last two years felt like they had all been a lie.

She did not doubt that Kanaan cared for her though, and that she had cared for him deeply, but his feelings were twisted with his fears for the future and perhaps distorted as a result of Michael's experiments on him. She liked to think that this Kanaan was not the same man as the one she had grown up with and had initially shared a relationship with before Michael, but she had no way to ever really know. It was all broken and it would never be fixed. She sighed as she waved one of Torren's favourite toys for him. He took it from her hand, the bright colours of the plastic making him smile and he waved it to produce the jingling noise he loved. He giggled brightly.

The shock was still so fresh, almost verging on denial at times – that Kanaan was not what she had thought he was. He had threatened people, her friends, even her, and had attacked John, initially with Michael's serum. Yesterday she would never have thought the Kanaan she thought she knew could have been capable of such acts. He may have insisted that he was pushed into today's rash actions, but she was surrounded everyday by people who survived and shined in the stress of difficult times. They never used that excuse. She valued the strength of character they displayed in those times. Kanaan had revealed his own character today and as much as she wished his actions were due to Michael's twisting, it did not change the fact that Kanaan had been twisted.

She looked up the window into the isolation room. The nurse was standing in front of the bed, blocking her view of her John. She prayed that what had happened to John was reversible, that he could become himself again. She hated to think that her mistake in Kanaan would affect John in the long term. She dropped her eyes back onto her smiling son. She had made so many mistakes and it appeared the consequences were affecting others as much as herself. Not only were her life and Torren's forever changed, but John's as well and in a far more dramatic way. She found herself recalling that battle between John and Kanaan – the aggression and violence between them and not for the first time lately did she wish she had chosen differently.

She felt as if there were eyes on her, but she did not look up, for over the past hours she had met the looks of many and in all their eyes she had seen their well meaning pity and support. Though she appreciated their concern it did not help her hold back the sadness. And besides John was the one who needed attention and support right now.

Teyla

The call arrived in her thoughts and for a moment she froze fearing at the origin, until she recognised the voice behind the word, or at least the voice she had given the call. She looked up from Torren to meet John's altered eyes through the glass. The nurse had gone, leaving him alone in that small see-through room. He was sat on the edge of the bed, where he had remained for some time, and his attention was focused on her with a heavy intensity. She saw his eyebrows shift as if he had been surprised by her sudden attention. She wondered if she had imagined the voice, but she could not deny the similarity to earlier when he had somehow told her that it had been Kanaan behind his attack.

He frowned at her and she was aware she was doing the same. She got up from her seat and moved across the tiny distance to the glass wall between them. "John?" She asked, unsure why she would ask it out loud, but perhaps he could recognise his name on her lips through the glass.

She felt that slight sensation inside that was so similar to what it felt to be near a Wraith, but not quite. She had forgotten that she had sensed this from John before, but now it returned again. His eyes were locked onto her and a deep crease appeared in his forehead as he frowned heavily.

Teyla?

This time she was sure that she heard it and the question to it as well. She turned from the glass and picked up Torren's carry cot. She swiftly exited the observation room and past the two relaxed guards near the main exit. They nodded to her as she passed heading towards the entrance to the isolation room. The door stood open, as it had all evening now, and she saw John watching her from inside, but she moved on further into the small lab behind the other glass wall. Carson and the two nurses looked up as she entered.

"Carson, could you watch Torren for me for a moment?" She asked.

"Of course, luv," he replied and she saw the touch of sympathy in his eyes, which only deepened as he took the cot from her. "Wow, you are getting heavy, little man," he said down to Torren who smiled up at him. "You're going to grow too big for this cot pretty soon."

Teyla moved away to the door through which John was sat in the same position, his head turned towards her as she entered. She smiled as she moved towards him, her eyes dropping only momentarily to the blue skin of his arms and throat. His changes had seemed darker in the half light of the atrium, but in the pure light of the isolation room the areas of blue seemed less but just as starling due to the brightness of the colour. She lifted her eyes to his as she neared him, and she noticed that the Wraith-like shape to his pupils were narrower in here, most likely due to the bright overhead lights. It meant that there were more of his natural green colour to his eyes, but the narrow strip of darkness shifted wider as she neared.

She opened her senses, as she would do to communicate with a Wraith, or sometimes with Torren. She had found that she could communicate on a basic level with her son sometimes, such as to calm him or distract him from something that upset him. It usually took a lot of focus and it did not always work, but then Torren was young and his mind undeveloped as yet. She looked forward to seeing how much they would be able to communicate in the future.

She imagined in her mind a space in which she could communicate safely with another, though before that space had been invaded by Wraith, most notably the Queen who had almost brought an end to Torren before he had even been born. She gathered her wandering thoughts, her emotions were very much on the surface this evening and not for the first time did she feel the need to retreat away where she could express her feelings alone.

She formed in her mind John's name and sent it to him in the same way as she practiced with Torren, but as she watched John she saw no indication that he had heard her. She tried again, but again there was nothing.

"Try again, John," she suggested.

His attention focused intensely on her again and the words arrived.

This is not your fault

She was surprised more at the content of what he had chosen to say to her than that he had been able to communicate with her. "I heard you," she reported.

"Teyla?" Carson called gently from the doorway and she and John looked round at him. "Is everything alright?" She wondered how long she and John had been staring at each other trying this out.

She smiled in return and gestured to John. "I can hear him."

Carson's look of curious concern morphed quickly into interest. "Like before?" He asked as he moved into the isolation with them.

"Not as dramatically as before," she reported, since that first time she had been literally almost knocked from her feet. "But, he seems unable to hear thoughts I send him as I can with Wraith."

"Really? Can you hear all the Colonel's thoughts?"

"Just what he wants to say to me," she replied, assuming that John would be thinking considerably more than the short bursts he had sent her. Though, he had been saying very little so far.

"I wonder if this has something to do with you not speaking very much," Carson considered, clearly thinking along the same lines. "Are you finding it difficult to talk?"

Thinking seems easier

"He says that it is easier to think than speak," she reported.

"That's new for you then," Carson joked at John.

John's face, blank as it seemed to be, shifted slightly and she thought she saw a faint touch of an amused glare directed towards the Doctor.

"Is there anything he wants to tell us? Any details we haven't picked up on before?" Carson pushed. As she looked back to John she realised that she had assumed the role of a translator. Though, if it could help John she was more than willing, and she had never experienced telepathy so easily before. John's eyes locked with hers.

Tell him I'm hungry

She chuckled at the sudden message. "He's says that he is hungry."

Carson's look turned, instead of amused as she was, to concern. "For food, right?" He asked cautiously.

She glanced back at John, only just realising Carson's point. She was sure she had felt the subtle sense of amusement to John's previous thought, but she should be sure. John had not shown any indication of the Wraith or Iratus need to feed the last time, but again they should be sure. But John answered immediately with a nod at Carson and then he looked back at her.

They're serving roast potatoes tonight

"How do you know that?" She asked him. He had not been outside this room for the last three hours or so. His only answer was a light frown and then a shrug.

"What?" Carson asked.

"He says they are serving roast potatoes up in the mess hall," she told him.

"Really? I love roast tatties," Carson replied with eagerness of his own. "I'll get them to send down some dinner for us," Carson turned and moved to the exit.

She watched him stop outside the doorway as he placed the dinner order, and then there was a soft touch against her hand and she looked round at John. His eyes met her very directly, more directly than one normally did with another, but the intensity of the stare did not feel worrying. Perhaps it was the strange shape to his eyes now, and as compared to his direct stare from the time of the retrovirus, this time there was a clear lucid intelligence in his eyes.

I'm sorry

"For what?" She asked surprised.

For scaring you before

"You do not need to apologise, John," she told him. "You saved both Torren and me." She broke her eyes away from his far too aware attention. John's hand touched her arm again drawing her attention back to him. It was only when she looked up at his eyes that she heard him again.

Don't blame yourself

She was surprised by the accuracy of his comment, and also that he would so directly 'say' it. The comment brought forth a swell of emotions that she had been managing to handle up until now. She quickly tried to stamp them down. "I should have known."

He shook his head. She appreciated his opinion, but he was wrong. She decided to change the line of this conversation. "Michael is still out there," she said.

His eyes narrowed at her before he nodded.

"He may have my people, John," she said and halfway through the sentence the emotion broke free, shaking her voice and she looked away blinking against the abrupt fearful tears. She gathered herself through the silence of the small room and finally looked back up to him. His eyes were on her, dark and dangerous as they had been in the atrium.

We will find him He stated each word clearly in her mind.

She nodded, though doubt clouded her thoughts and she found herself also fearing that perhaps John would not be allowed to help. What if he was unable to be returned to himself? No, she could not allow herself to think that way. Carson would find a way to help him. She nodded again and once again felt the touch of John's hand, but this time it was against her hand. She looked down to his touch with surprise, and she clasped his hand with her own. All the support that the others had offered to her over the past few hours had been appreciated, but unwanted. Now, she found she wanted his support, and his simple touch meant more to her than a hundred offers of support. She was blinking back tears as Carson re-entered the isolation room.

She quickly wiped at her eyes with her free hand, trying to compose herself a little. Carson's look of support now was not as unwelcome as before. "They've got honey roast parsnips as well," he told John. "I've ordered some food for you and if you want some Teyla?" He asked.

"I should really go and put Torren to bed," she replied. The desire for some space and to let out her feelings was even stronger now. John's fingers tightened around her hand a little more. She looked at him.

We'll stop him

She nodded and tightened her hand in his in reply. She felt Carson's question and looked back at the kind doctor. "It seems easier to hear him if I am looking directly at him," she offered her observation, also serving to subtly distract her friend away from the clear tears in her eyes.

"Interesting," Carson considered. "Perhaps tomorrow we could do some scans?"

"I would be happy to help in any way I can," she replied honestly.

"Well, since I'm not psychic," Carson told John. "You'll have to use this," he held up a small whiteboard and pen. "I should have thought of it sooner. The areas of the brain that produce speech are very different from those that you use to write."

John reached for the board with his free hand and Teyla gently pulled her hand from his other. His eyes moved to her as he took the pen from Carson. He placed the items down on his lap, his attention focused entirely on her. There was a long pause, that she felt more through the lack of words he sent her than in the physical stillness of him.

Sorry about Kanaan

She nodded her thanks. "I know. I will see you early tomorrow morning," she offered now even more eager to leave here to have some emotional space. "I hope you sleep well." John nodded, his alien eyes seeing far too much in her.

She moved to leave and Carson's hand fell on her arm squeezing briefly. She smiled up at her friend. "You should get some sleep as well, Carson," she said softly.

"I will, I promise," he replied.

She doubted him, but nodded and moved to leave the isolation room, looking back briefly to see John watching her, but no words arrived from him. She smiled at him and left the room to collect Torren from the nurses in the next room. As she thanked them she looked through the glass wall to see that John was writing on the whiteboard for Carson. That pleased her because she did not wish to leave him without someway to communicate more fully than one word answers.

She nodded to the guards as she passed them and stepped out into the empty corridor outside the isolation lab. The doors slid shut behind her and she was left alone in the corridor with her quietly snoozing son.

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The hallways were dark and empty as he strode through them. The subtle pressure of the weight of the mountain above the hallway's ceiling seemed to press down on his head and shoulders. He drew in the damp scent of the earth behind the living walls and, not for the first time, he wished that he was elsewhere.

The doors slid open ahead of him. "Status of the signal?" He demanded.

"It has still not returned," was the reply.

"It could be the solar radiation again," another suggested from his right.

"The radiation readings are not that high."

"The signal is so weak that any number of interferences between both points can interfere."

He stopped before the main console set before the large wavering screen above them. "Not for this long before. It has been discovered," he concluded.

"They may have deactivated the signal before it was discovered," was the standard argumentative reply.

He turned to face the argument delivered from a reflection of his own face. "Either way it means that the signal has been discovered."

"They may be able to track it back here," the third suggested.

"I doubt that they will be able to do that."

"You forget they have the skills of Doctors McKay and Beckett at their disposal," he pointed out as he turned back to the screen. "We need to make ready to execute the plan."

"He is far from ready," the argument continued as the other clone stepped to his side.

"He has been ready for a very long time - he only seeks perfection as part of his madness. There is no time for that indulgence now."

"It is important that all the factors are taken into account. It has yet to be tested on a planet."

He turned from the screen to smile at his double. "Then I suggest we test it – on the planet they will likely return to."

His reflection smiled, and once again they were in complete agreement.

"I will let him know."

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TBC