Chapter 2: You and Me

.oOo.

Michael's appointment with Dr. Kate Heightmeyer had fallen through and for what reason, as usual they had not told him. Normally it would have bothered him but now he didn't care. Because it meant one less time he didn't have to put up with her gentle but uncomfortable interrogation to discuss his feelings and thoughts about various things. More importantly, he was returned to his room sooner than he expected.

When they left, Michael wanted to pull out the devise immediately. To study what he managed to slip into his pocket when the woman from the hall, Ronon, John and the two guards weren't looking. Unfortunately, it hadn't been for very long and most of what she was carrying was either too big or of no use for possible escape. Except for one item, which he had never seen before seemed to hold promise. Even if it turned out unhelpful, at least it would give him something to do.

He didn't know why he had this nagging feeling to get out of the city. Sometimes he felt trapped here, even though they told him this was home and offered all they could, a guess as to what caused the loss of his memory. But no matter how many times they explained it, something didn't feel right and he knew instinctively that at the very least, they weren't telling him everything.

After all, why are they watching me so closely? Why are some of them nervous and even afraid around me? And worse, why does Ronon Dex hate me?

True Michael agreed to cooperate, but only for the time being. If things didn't improve soon he would be left with no choice but to rebel in some way. His days held little interest and were downright mind-numbing in schedule. He wanted to do something different and decide when to do it without being followed by guards or cameras. To talk with others, learn and contribute to the good of the colony he was now a part of. Maybe then he hoped his mind would be at ease. The isolation and little real contact he received now were unbearable. His mind, felt too quiet and empty.

He no longer cared if they felt he wasn't ready. He also no longer cared for the questions. Not just Dr. Heightmeyer but all of them seemed to do was ask him the same ones over and over again. It was a constant reminder of the blanks within his mind as well it filled him with only more worry over it.

Unconsciously he picked up the framed photograph of his parents. The lack of any feeling for them had him hastily putting it back down. Running a hand through his hair, Michael's glance bounced back and forth from his bed to his nightstand.

Even nights and the little sleep coming with them held no relief. Strange nightmares had him wakening up in a sweat. Always they were about the Wraith, of him walking among them in the corridors of a hive ship. But the most disturbing one he had so far was when he dreamed about rising to get a drink of water but the mirror to his right did not hold his reflection. He found himself jumping at what he saw there instead: a wraith with eyes wide and sharp teeth bared and letting out a horrified howl.

Often when he couldn't get back to sleep, he spent time staring at his shaking hands. Checking and re-checking them. They looked strange to him somehow and he didn't know why.

Stuffing them now into his pockets, he felt the stolen item in his left. Now trying to determine its use would at least kill some free time, which he had in no short supply.

Mindful of the surveillance cameras, he walked to his bed to lie down. Reaching it, he feigned a yawn, rubbed his eyes and got under the covers. Putting the last to use, he carefully pulled out and studied the thin white rectangular shaped item. White coated wires were bunched and secured with a black elastic band. Removing it and unwinding the wires around it proved tricky under the covers. But it was necessary to access the controls. Shifting to his stomach he used his pillow and head to block the cameras so he could examine the white knobs on the ends of each of the wires. Putting them down, he then hesitantly tested each of the buttons. With no results, till he slid one over then pressed another.

A tinny sound emitted from the knobs. He picked one of them up again and slowly drew it closer to his face. A woman's voice rose up. But it sounded odd. It was drawn out in a dramatic flare with rhythmic noise in the back ground. And sometimes it overpowered the voice. He couldn't make it out what she was saying.

Perhaps this is a communication devise, he thought. Squinting in concentration he brought the knob to the side of his head closest to the pillow. Then something occurred to him and experimentally he put the end into his left ear. It fitted there and he realized that must be what its purpose was for now he could hear what she was saying.

Absently he pulled the covers up higher and put the other knob into his right ear. He listened till the sounds died away. Trying to get it back he pressed another button and Michael got a different noise for his efforts. When the voices started up, they were talking quietly. What they said Michael had trouble following. Finding the volume, he turned it up. Suddenly a loud masculine shout had him jumping. The tone of it seemed darker, angry and yet sullen.

"I've become... Impossible..."

Half listening to the words and the noise Michael looked over the item again carefully and finally noticed the tiny display screen. Probably, he guessed it had come on when he had managed to activate the devise. It bore a list of items in the script he was just beginning to learn.

"We're in this..." he worked out. Staring at the highlighted text hard he broke down the long word, "To...get...her."

Distracted, he didn't notice at first how his foot started to move to the steady beat within the noise. Frowning he risked a quick peek over the covers-of course it immediately stopped.

Suspicious, Michael looked at the devise in his hand and wondered if it was more ominous than it appeared. The sounds it was currently emitting seemed so, for it had made a part of his body move seemingly of its own accord. He frowned again, removed the devise from his ears and worked more on translating the words on the tiny screen. Time passed and feeling no long term ill effects he felt it was worth the risk to try and listen to the devise again. Even though now conscious of the manipulation, he immediately felt an urge to move in sync with the beats. But finding the urge to move easy to resist, he relaxed and tried to make out the words the man was screaming through the noise. So caught up in the task, Michael wasn't aware as his foot started to move once again in time with the beats.

With the knobs blasting in his ears he also didn't register the slow but steady footsteps coming down the hall. When the door behind him unexpectedly opened Michael froze. Carefully he worked to quiet the devise before pulling out the knobs.

"Good afternoon Michael," Dr. Carson Beckett greeted in his usual cheery voice.

Hearing him set down a tray on his desk, Michael didn't need to glance at the clock to confirm it was time for his daily medication. He also didn't want to look at what Dr. Beckett had put down. The blood collecting supplies didn't bother him. A butterfly needle was nothing but the already loaded sizable injecting syringe which held a clear neon green drug was not.

"Are we feelin' alright?" Dr. Beckett's tone seemed light but Michael could still detect the other usual aspects in the man's voice. The worry and guilt in Dr. Beckett comment, "I heard you didn' eat too much this mornin'."

Ah yes the guards, Michael thought bitterly and wondered what else they reported. How many times he had coughed, scratched his nose and whatever else seemingly mundane thing he had done since waking up this morning. Evenly Michael started, "Just tried a few new things like you suggested."

"Oh? Like what?"

While trying to find a way to shut down the devise, Michael described what he put on his plate. Then reported what he actually sampled and what had happened as a result to buy more time but he didn't bring up observing the man and the woman. Bunching up the wires hastily he changed the topic.

"I think I might take a nap after you go. I'm still tired from Teyla's session from this morning. Or do you think it's my diabetes?" he asked buying more time to slip everything under his pillow.

"Dunno, could be you're trouble sleeping too. Let me take a sample of your blood first and we'll see," Dr. Beckett said as he picked up what he needed. Michael finally got up, turned to him and without having to be asked offered his left arm.

.oOo.

End Notes: Songs Michael was listening to were Nine Inch Nails - "We're In This Together" and Alanis Morissette - "Everything" And yes I know...the Carson accent is so-so. ;)