A/N: Laura's in some trouble now.
Name: Cadman, Lt. Laura
Date: 2006, January 19, 0902 hours
Yesterday was horrible. The evening before was even worse. Carson didn't get back from his mission when he said he would. Apparently, Colonel Sheppard's team ran into some trouble off world and had to hole up while the Wraith passed them by. They'd hidden in some caves for about 12 hours or so, and by the time they and the few villagers they could save felt safe enough to come out to see if the coast was clear, everything was gone.
Carson's work had been utterly wasted. Every single man, woman, and child he had so dilligently treated the previous day was either missing or had been turned into a shriveled up husk and left to rot where they had lain. It took a heavy toll on him, but not as much as it had taken from him to see me today.
When he didn't get back in time, my transformation just wasn't about to wait for him. I tried to lock myself away, but I wasn't able to properly chain myself after it began. I ended up breaking the lock on the door and escaping just over an hour afterward. I don't really remember a lot of what happened after that, but I was told that I went a little nuts in the mess hall. And I'm really grateful that Colonel Sheppard decided to use the Wraith stunners instead of his customary P90. If he hadn't… Well, I probably shouldn't be thinking about that right now.
I'm eerily calm right now for some reason, though. I'm not upset or angry or even confused; just kind of spaced out, really. Everyone knows about my transformations now. Everyone knows now why I disappear every three weeks or so for three days, and everyone knows now why only Carson could ever find me at those times. And at this very moment, I'm sitting in a security cell in one of the lower levels. This might even be the same cell that they'd kept that starved Wraith a couple of years back… I'm not quite sure.
But I'm absolutely positive now that they're planning to ship me back home. Dr. Weir and Colonel Sheppard weren't afraid of me as much as they were afraid for me, though. 'This really isn't a good place for you any more,' Elizabeth had said. 'Don't worry, Lieutenant. They'll take good care of you back at the SGC,' Colonel Sheppard had said.
And I'd said nothing.
They knew I didn't want to go. For the longest time now, Carson has been so good to me, and he's taken care of me. But he's the chief medical officer here on Atlantis. There's no way they'd let him come with me for more than a couple of weeks at most. He has far too much work to do here, helping people with a much better prognosis than I.
What terrifies me the most now, though, is the thought that no one will ever trust me again. I turn into a vicious creature with fangs and claws that could kill someone without a second thought. Would I kill someone in my transformed state, given the chance? I honestly have no idea, but that obviously doesn't change the fact that I'm still dangerous. The snack food kiosks and soda fountain dispensers in the mess tremble in fear before my power.
All I really want is Carson. Is that so much to ask? They won't even let him visit with me, and they explain their callousness with some claim that his presence has caused me to transform before. It's true to an extent, I suppose, but still… Having his arms around me is the only way I'm going to feel better right now. I want to hear him tell me in that soft, Scottish brogue of his that everything is going to be alright, and that I'll always be his wee lovely lassie.
I've got to pull myself together. I'm a US Marine, a soldier, and a trained scientist. I can't let this beat me. I can't lose it in this place. I have to hold onto some hope that Carson will find a way to cure or help me somehow before it's too late, before they ship me out for good or end up killing me in order to protect the sanctity of the food stores.
Please… God, help me.