Conditioned Aversion2
Moira Sheppard peered into the microscope, staring at the swirling cells. Although heavily damaged they were being repaired by a foreign substance, dyed green to display its rapid efficacy. "It's remarkable. And the biochemical breakdown?" she asked, scooting to a computer screen to view twirling chains of molecular sequences.
"As different from the Wraith enzyme as night and day. Yet the Goa'uld also possess an incredible regenerative property, that not only affects the symbiote but the host as well." Janet Fraiser was studying the screen next to hers.
"So it is not species specific?" Moira asked, still watching the colored spirals. The chains of nucleotide, sugars, proteins all broken down to their most basic level.
"Yes and no," Janet stated with a shrug. "As you can imagine the relationship between the symbiote and the host is quite different than that between the Wraith and humans. Instead of the predator/prey dynamic we have here a true symbiosis. A parasitical creature inhabiting a human body, a human mind, taking over in effect. Hijacking the previous personality. While retaining all of its thoughts, feelings..."
"Memories," Moira added softly, the data blurring as she was turning inward. Memories of her husband always there, always on the surface. Wrought with worry, fear. Longing for John so intense she had to block all thoughts, all memories of him lest she dissolve or panic.
"Yes. The Goa'uld possess the genetic memory of the previous ones, plus that of their hosts. Do the Wraith possess a similar process? Moira?"
Moira started, forcing images of John out of her mind. "Um...no. At least we don't think so. When they feed they can access the mind of their prey to a certain extent, but of each other? I'm not sure...nothing like these Goa'uld of yours, in any case. They do have considerable psychic energies, however. Like making you see things that aren't there, or communicating over vast distances. Do the Goa'uld?"
"No. Their power only manifests once they are embedded in the host." Janet frowned. "If not for the host these things would just be slimy, snake-like creatures with sentience but no real power. No real threat. They are spawned by a queen."
"We have similar theories about the Wraith, at least for the Drones. For the others...we don't think they reproduce that way."
"It's forbidden for a Goa'uld to mate with another while infesting their hosts lest the offspring inherit the entire genetic memory of all Goa'ulds."
"Since the Wraith are half-human we can only surmise how their higher forms of reproduction would be. Assuming that they even retain the human reproductive system. We just have no idea about the species as a whole. Our understanding is limited, at best."
"Yet both possess these incredible regenerative powers. Both are long-lived. Both prey on humans, in different ways." Janet shook her head at the injustice of it all.
"It's not fair, is it? That the most repulsive creatures in their respective galaxies possess such remarkable genetic gifts and long lives," Daniel Jackson noted, joining the two women. He smiled affably as Janet turned to him. Moira glanced at him.
"I guess the galaxy has a cruel sense of humor," Janet noted.
"Has there been any word?" Moira asked, turning to him. The same question escaping her lips every day. As days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. As a chilly spring was giving way to a temperate summer.
"No. Sorry, Moira, not yet. The Daedalus is on its way to Atlantis. So we will be receiving word soon. At least you've finally ventured out of your hiding hole."
"The lure of science," Janet explained. "Takes one mind off of everything. Doesn't it, Moira?" Janet gave a meaningful look at Daniel, an inclination of her head.
"Yes..." Moira stood. Seeing the sympathy. Knew it would turn to pity soon enough. She knew the look quite well. It reminded her of her past, even though this situation was very different from that one. John was in Atlantis, and would be fully prepared to face his dark side self. Had his marines to back up any move he made. Had weapons. Had skills. Training. Still she worried. The lack of any news or information grating on her nerves. The lack of John a constant ache she couldn't soothe. "Excuse me."
"Moira!" Daniel caught up to her, strolled next to her in the hallway. "Let's get out of here."
"What?" She glanced at him.
"There's a paleontology dig not far from here. Woodland Park. They need volunteers for a new–"
"No thanks. Dinosaurs are not my speciality," Moira rejected, stopping to face him, "and the Rocky Mountain Dinosaur Research Center is all over that."
"Oh. But I think they found some mammoth bones, and that's your thing, right?"
She smiled. "Yes...but I should stay here. I need to stay here." She resumed walking.
Daniel sighed, walked beside her. "I've got my cell phone, Moira. If the SGC hears anything we will be a phone call away. You need to get out of here. Apart from those two shopping trips you haven't budged from here, or from your room except on rare occasions."
"I'm sorry. I'm not feeling very sociable," she explained.
"That's all right. I'm sorry if I'm being pushy, or intrusive."
"Please, he's always pushy and intrusive. That's his nature." Both turned as Jack O'Neill approached. Gaze moving from one to the other. "Although...mammoth bones...I don't see how anyone could pass up a look at genuine mammoth bones..."
Moira smiled at his gentle cajoling. "They are quite interesting, colonel. In fact I think you should go there with Daniel. I'm sure he can instruct you on the finer points of Mammuthus primigenius. I'm sure it's not Mammuthus trogontherii which is the steppe mammoth found in Europe, well, Russia specifically, but the wooly mammoth, Mammuthus primigenius was indigenous here during the Pleistocene until the advent of–"
"Whoa, whoa! Waaaaaaaay too much Latin for me!" Jack exclaimed, raising his hands in mock surrender.
Daniel laughed. Moira smiled, but her chest tightened. Recalling how John would have reacted. Would have halted her nervous rambling with a kiss. The firm pressure of his soft, full lips on hers. His teasing tongue. His warmth. She clasped her hands together, fingering her wedding ring. The only tangible item she had of John. All the rest were memories in her head. "Sorry, colonel," she apologized.
"Jack. Call me Jack, Moira. Now, you are going with Daniel to his fossil dig thing, all right? No," he held up a hand, "that's a direct order." His tone gentled. "I promise, if there is any word, any word at all I will call Daniel and send a car to fetch you."
"I...okay. Thank you, col...Jack," she acquiesced. Seeing it would be easier then to argue, to refuse. It really didn't matter where she was or what she was doing. Worry for John was a constant thought. A weight in her chest that she had borne for months.
"It will be fine, Moira. I have no doubt that John has cleared the galaxy of any threat and is only waiting to send word once he is certain it is safe," Jack assured.
Moira squatted in the dirt. Using a tiny brush she carefully cleared the dirt and lingering icy snow from the protruding fossil bone. Although it was nearing summer in the city at these higher elevations a trace of winter lingered. The air was still chilly, a breeze soughing in the fir trees surrounding her. Rocks crowded, huge boulders that had been dropped by retreating glaciers and had remained ever since.
She looked up, squinting against the bright sunlight, the blue sky. Finding it odd not to be surrounded by marines. Not to have a side arm holstered at her hip. Not to have an Ancient scanner that would hasten and ease the excavation considerably. Not to have John towering over her, making either inquisitive or acerbic comments.
She sighed, pushed the thought of him aside. It was almost second-nature now, moving all memories, dreams, longings out of her mind until she was alone at night. Where she could stop pretending she was fine and allow herself the luxury of worrying, wanting, needing. She had had plenty of practice at this. Burying her true emotions. Presenting a calm demeanor to the outside world. Pretending that everything was fine.
"What is that? Leg bone?"
She glanced at Daniel. He was squatting beside her, carefully brushing off another protruding fossil. Sunlight bounced off his glasses. His blond hair was mostly obscured by the hat he wore. "Femur," she agreed. "I was just thinking how odd it is. To be back on Earth," she said quietly.
"I know exactly what you mean. When I have the rare chance to go on a bonafide archaeological dig I can't help but keep reaching for the gun that isn't there, or look around for any approaching Jaffa." He smiled, shrugged. "Hazards of the job, I guess."
"I guess," she agreed, nodding.
"But I imagine it's stranger for you, isn't it? Being so far from Earth in the first place, a whole different galaxy while I am based here, on Earth I mean. If it was me I'd be walking into doors expecting them to open with a wave of my hand."
She laughed. "I nearly have a few times. I'm so used to that now." She sighed. Shivered as the cold wind blew against her jacket. "And this." She indicated the bone at her feet. "This is nothing compared to Pleistocene Park! There are living mammoths there, Daniel! Living mega fauna the likes of which you cannot imagine! It's...it's incredible!"
Daniel smiled, seeing a brief resurgence of her enthusiasm. "It sounds incredible, Moira. I know exactly what you mean. When we come across a culture that is patterned on one of Earth's ancient societies, like the Mayan or the Vikings it is astounding to me. A chance to study living history, so to speak."
"Exactly! It's the same for me, there. On that planet, I mean. And others. But nothing is like Pleistocene Park." She eyed the bone. Flexing her scarred foot in memory of the brutal attack by the sub-Wraith. Nearly ripping off her foot. The mission on which she had met John. The mission on which they had shared that first kiss. She shook the memory away, saw Daniel looking at her. Concern in his blue eyes. "Sorry...I...you've been very kind to me, Daniel. But don't feel you need to babysit me."
"I don't. I mean I 'm not babysitting you, Moira. It's nice to spend some time with a fellow scientist. One who understands excavations and really, really old things. You have no idea how many blank looks I get if I start to talk about that."
She smiled. "Same here. On the company and the blank looks."
"Even John?"
"Especially John." She sighed, eyed the fir trees. Tall conifers whispering his name over and over, their green needles sparkling with the last of the snow, the last of the ice. "No, that's not true all of the time. He does seem to be genuinely interested in my work. Even this." She gestured at the bone. Frowned.
"I'm sure he's fine, Moira. If you ever need to talk about it, I'm here."
Moira shook her head. Tendrils of her hair flying in the breeze. "No. Thank you, but no."
"All right," Daniel acquiesced, knowing it was better not to press. But couldn't help adding, "it does help to talk, you know. Don't bottle up all that anxiety, Moira. You can express your worry for him. It will help."
"Not now," she said, closing herself off from his kindness. From his good intentions. She had ways of coping. Pictured the little Swiss army knife in her room. The sharp blade. She lifted the brush. "Let's finish this and then we can go back to the SGC."
Moira sat in her room. Left alone at last. Resenting all the intrusions although knowing they only meant the best for her. To try to keep her occupied, keep her mind off worrying over John. Even Daniel's kindness was cloying after awhile, and she was glad to be alone at last.
Alone with her thoughts. Alone with her memories of John.
She moved to the bathroom. Closed the door. The worry was eating her alive. Worry over John. Facing his dark side self. Facing what she could only imagine to be a nightmare made into a physical reality. Plumbing the depths of whatever guilt and sorrow and remorse he buried within him. Of which she had only caught glimpses so far. Mirroring her own in some ways. His anger, his jealousy over her feelings for his dark side self. Her actions. Her seeming betrayal with another man, even if it was the same man.
She sighed. Opened the drawer. Pulled out the Swiss army knife. She opened the blade. Stared at it a moment. Knew she shouldn't be doing this. Knew this was backsliding into old habits. Old ways to relieve stress, guilt, worry. Guilt consumed her. If anything happened to John it would be because of her. His concern for her. His love for her.
She could imagine all sorts of horrible scenarios. John injured. John bleeding. Or worse of all, John dying at the hands of his darker self. She shuddered, willing the nightmare to go away, to leave her. Assured herself that John would be fine. Could out think, out maneuver his opponent.
Nevertheless she grasped the knife. Needed a release. A distraction to end all thoughts. To end all emotions. To erase the memory of John from her mind, for at least a little while.
She drew the blade across her naked thigh. Cutting skin. Cutting flesh to feel the pain. To see the blood beading along her pale skin.
She knew John would be appalled by what she was doing. But he would also understand. She could picture his brilliant green eyes full of warmth, concern, sympathy. Felt tears, wondering if she would ever see him again. If in fact he had sent her here forever, would never come back for her, would not want her to return. It would be easier if she stayed on Earth. Would halt his most reckless behavior. Would halt all the flak from his superiors over their marriage. Would make his life easier, and hers.
She made another cut across her thigh. Wincing, staring at the bloody trail of the knife.