Chapter 4 – Drowning in Memories

Beep…beep…beep…

He handles the gun. He toys with it for a moment, before handing it over. He then babbles to himself. He doesn't know what he is saying but it doesn't matter. What matters is the explosion of noise, the blood and the smell of death. The feeling that this is all his fault.

Beep…beep…beep…

His heart was about to explode. She had used him! Used him to get what she wanted. No matter that their lives depended on what she now held. He pleaded with his eyes. He didn't hear the words but could read the answer in her face, masked as regret.

Shocked and angry he could feel their eyes boring into his back as she walked away. He had cost them. It was all his fault they were going to die.

Beep…beep…beep

His head was full. Too full with memories not his own. It was hard to distinguish between what was his and what was another's, there wasn't any separation anymore. They were all his memories; the successes and failures. He mentally snorted. There was a difference between having knowledge and knowing everything. Especially the deep dark secrets. He buried them with the ominous thoughts in the recesses of his mind. The ones that told him the folly of his ways. The ones that mocked and taunted him.

He shook his too full head. Someone was talking to him. Wanting him to solve all their worries. Fix all the wrongs. Wanting him to tell them all the secrets. Wanting him to rest and collect himself. He couldn't be still. He would drown in the voices, the memories if he did. He joked as he pushed forward knowing he would have to deal with this issue later, "Ah, there's no rest for the wicked, let alone me."

Beep…beep…beep…

He'd heard the implications and rumours. It was his fault they were dead. He had no business being here. The sooner he left the better.

Tears stung at his eyes as he walked away from the accusing voices. Maybe they were right. He was a screw up. He hurried to a door and waved his palm on a crystal.

Standing in front of a vast expanse of water, he counted the names of the dead on his fingers. He stopped when he had no more fingers left.

Beep…beep…beep…

OoOoOoOoOo

Elizabeth stared at the man lying before her. He was pale and hooked up to various medical equipments. The tubes snaked across the bed to his chest, head and arm. The rhythmic beep was the loudest sound in the vicinity, drowning Rodney's breaths.

Her arms folded, Elizabeth was thinking. Thinking about her choices in the past year.

She winced.

She'd become numb with each failed attempt to find Rodney. It had been hard to tell Sheppard to stop searching. Eventually ordering him to stop. Informing them that Rodney was officially dead.

Sheppard hadn't taken it well. The tension from that decision had formed a rift between the two but they'd had almost a year to come to grips with the loss. To rebuild their friendship. To believe that the right decision had been made.

The person in front of her said otherwise.

When Lorne had called back, requesting Sheppard and his team, the feeling of certainty had wavered. And the radio check with Sheppard had deepened the turmoil in her stomach. Sheppard's belief had inspired her hope that it was Rodney and that everything would be okay. But in the back of her mind, she had faced reality. Rodney would have come home, even if he'd had to make his own stargate.

The frantic radio call about a medical emergency was not unexpected. After their arrival through the gate she'd only had a glimpse of Rodney. Sheppard and his team had looked lost. The woman they had brought with them, upset.

Her worry had been realised upon John and Carson's verbal report. Rodney didn't know them. Before the two of them had been able to talk with Rodney, he had collapsed. Carson's initial assessment from scans and a discussion with the woman who had accompanied them was that Rodney was suffering from retrograde amnesia and at the moment a severe migraine.

"Carson tells me that he won't be awake for a while." The curtain around the bed settled back into place as if it had never been disturbed.

She looked at Sheppard, "John I…"

He shook his head as he gazed at the still form. " We all make tough decisions. He's home and that's all that matters."

Elizabeth gave him a curt nod. She looked at Rodney one last time before leaving.

oOoOoOoOo

Teyla and Pathee waited beside Spock's bed, watching him sleep. The soft snores were a comfort to both women.

Pathee was used to the outdoors and its wide open spaces. This place and this room made her feel confined. The flashing lights, the odd noises and the unusual smells assailed her senses. She longed to return and be with her people. To go home.

But what of Spock? What would he want?

At the debriefing Pathee had explained the appearance of Spock and his integration into their society. She had retold the story of finding Spock wandering, bleeding and disoriented. She really hadn't known what they wanted to hear. Doctor Beckett had questioned her about Spock's medical history while with them and had already shared his findings with the group. Pathee had been reluctant to part with some of the details of Spock's life in the camp. As a leader, she understood loss and regret, but she couldn't tell them everything. She had responsibilities, and besides, some things could not be shared. Only Spock himself could do that.

"Spock, why do you close yourself off? There are those that would enjoy your companionship." She searched his face for a response. "If you did not want to share with them perhaps they could share with you. Maybe it would help you remember what it is you have lost." Pathee hoped Spock would take her up on the offer. He had been there for a month but still ate alone. Living on the fringes of the community. Away from the warmth of the fire and the people.

He was often so quiet it was almost as if he wasn't there. It was very different from the man who had cried out and babbled constantly in the tent when he had been healing. As soon as he had been coherent the talking decreased as he had withdrawn. He did communicate, but only when necessary. Some of the other tribe's people were concerned and curious of the stranger but had given him his space. It was apparent that he did not remember his name and during the month he'd been there it was the decision of the tribe to bring him into the fold. They would not abandon him but it was hard considering his temperament. She had reasoned that he was lost, in more ways than the obvious, and that they needed to have patience with him.

When she had told him, if he wanted, he was part of the tribe the emotions on his face betrayed his uncertainty and unease. Spock cocked his head to the side and frowned. "I…uh…" He stared at her then, as if he had made a decision, he sat down on the rise of a hill in the meadow she had found him in. "Look, thanks for the rescue. I'll find a way to repay you." He swallowed, "But, I could be a murderer for all you know."

Was that why he was distant? She sat down next to him, watching him pluck the grass. "I think I am a good judge of character and I do not see that in you." Pathee smiled wistfully.

Shaking his head Spock continued, "I remember bits and pieces but they are jumbled up. They don't make sense. Some of them are…disturbing." He dropped the blades of grass and whirled his hands about. "I just don't know what to do and I don't want to hurt anyone."

Pathee was silent for a moment. "Then stop thinking about it."

"What?" He stared at her as if another head had sprouted from her neck. "I lie down at night and hear screaming, ranting and whispers. I have tried to stop…it doesn't work. Besides, there is nothing for me to do but think!" Spock spat out the last word and stood up quickly pressing the heel of his hands to his temples.

She looked towards the camp where a tendril of smoke wound its way towards the sky. Pathee got up and placed a hand on his arm. "We could take you to a healer. Maybe, they could help."

He shook his head. "No. No." He turned, his clear blue eyes pleaded to her, "Give me something else to think about. Give me something to do."

She smiled. "I'm sure we can find you something."

What Pathee told them was that when they went to other worlds, Spock fixed things which they bartered for food and other goods. In the tribe, everyone contributed. Sometimes Pathee pushed Spock to meet people, but he would stand there and listen. He preferred not to interact.

Kate had interrupted at that point asking about his interaction with the tribe and if he had talked about any of his memories. Pathee didn't want to elaborate on Spock's need for solitude, the dreams that caused him to scream. Spock tended to sleep in a tent on the outside of the camp and often wandered away for hours until nightfall. He always came back, but the quiet determination and resolve he seemly possessed had slowly been crumbling over the past few months. She knew that whatever demons he had been keeping at bay were slowly eroding his carefully built walls. He'd lost weight and his eyes had dulled a little. She knew that the pain in his head never went away and it had been increasing in intensity. This spell had been the worst.

She definitely hadn't elaborated on his frame of mind, until her conversation with Teyla. After the meeting they had bonded over all things Spock. Pathee felt at ease with the strong woman now sitting by her side. She sensed a kindred sister. She told Teyla of her concern. Spock was afraid. He would not share his fear with her despite all her attempts of support. He locked it all inside and she worried the harm this was causing him. She believed they could help him in a way she could not. Teyla absorbed this all while holding her hand.

The tempo of the machine beside the bed began to increase as Spock shifted in his bed, mumbling softly. Pathee breathed deeply recalling the loud screams that had erupted from the now-silent man. For all his knowledge, Spock had refused to trade his skills to get a healer to help him. She recalled the incident clearly. He had waved his hands about and muttered to her something about voodoo doctors and the chance of decreasing his ever-diminishing brain cells. She had been unsure what a voodoo doctor was and when she inquired he had not been able to tell her either. In the end they had walked past the healers straight to the tent with the devices.

Spock was able to touch devices from the ancestors. He was blessed. She remembered the first time.

The trade market on Yeste were always interesting with many stalls and eager traders.

In one of the tents Spock handled a small, thin pad, which immediately lit up. It was not the first time she had seen it happen, but it still surprised her. He smiled and quickly put it down before the vendor had seen what he'd done. The gruff man hadn't noticed, but Spock's obvious enthusiasm hindered his bartering. "Oh come on, it's not worth that much."

She watched as the situation slowly degraded to the point that Spock was throwing insults. Pathee and the vendor may not have understood the words, but the intent came through loud and clear. As much as she had wanted Spock to interact with someone, this was not the way. She had intervened and eventually gotten the red-faced Spock to apologise. His abrupt outburst had worried and shocked her. It was completely opposite to the normally quiet man. Attempting to smooth things over with the vendor, Pathee sent Spock away and brought the items he had been eyeing. Something about these items had triggered a reaction and so she had thought they would be a good purchase. Another link to Spock's past.

They had discussed what he remembered briefly but she knew he was holding something back. She didn't know why he wanted to suffer in silence but every attempt to broach the subject had been stonewalled. It was both puzzling and frustrating. She decided that she would try other avenues like the purchase of these devices.

Spock had been delighted when she had presented the devices to him. The thin pad, small green and blue brooch and long tube had been quickly taken and Spock had wandered off to the tent where he had set himself up an area to tinker with devices. The way his face had lit up made her smile too.

She looked at the still, silent man. When he was working he was fascinating to watch. He took each device and caressed them looking for their secrets. He didn't stop until they were revealed. It became his contribution for the tribe. A very profitable one and not just for trading. He fixed devices and brought joy to the owners. She liked to think that in Spock helping others helped him in a way too. Gave him his sense of purpose.

Staring around at this place, filled with more devices than Spock could handle, Pathee couldn't help but feel jealous. If indeed he was this Rodney, then he would be leaving them. Here, his purpose was clear. And despite his unusually deceptively quiet nature, she would miss him.

oOoOoOoOo

She just watched and waited.

"…I'm not staying. I don't care if they say they know me." Spock was like a caged animal, making a lot of noise and pacing around the room. His arms were waving wildly, as he muttered to himself and occasionally acknowledged her presence. Suddenly he stopped, sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. Spock spoke in almost a whisper, "I don't know them."

Pathee moved over to sit next to him. "I know it is a lot of information to absorb, but spend some time with them before you make your decision. Do not leave any regrets. If you feel like this place is not your home then come back. We will be there for another quarter moon before going to Kalae to trade. And even then, we will stay at the planet until the next full moon. You have time."

It was a few moments before she continued. "Do not judge them too hastily. They lost something, too."

She put her arm around his shoulders. "Promise me you will give them a chance."

He nodded slowly, giving her a crooked smile.

She couldn't help but smile back.

TBC

A/N - This story is almost complete. There are ten chapters and I am currently writing the last one. Thanks for reading.