A/N: Ah, sufficiently recovered from the Kolya bomb? Good, good...

Chapter 19

Carson was going over John's records again and so deep in concentration he didn't hear Rodney and Zelenka enter his office. Then he looked up and let out a startled yelp. "Oh, dear God. Would yae please knock?"

"Sorry," Rodney said, and it came out almost sounding like he said sore-ee. He and Zelenka both looked vaguely ill as they stood there.

"What's happened?" Carson asked, his pulse suddenly pounding in his cheek.

"Have you checked the video feed lately?" Zelenka asked quietly.

"No," Carson replied. His pulse ratcheted up a notch. "I've been occupied."

Rodney closed the door and Zelenka came over to Carson's side of the desk. "There is something you need to hear." He gestured at the computer and Carson turned it to face him. He called up the link, and with a few deft strokes called up a file, adjusted the volume, and hit play. He stood back and crossed his arms as Carson listened.

After the short file ended, Carson leaned back heavily in his chair. "Oh, dear lord," he muttered quietly and rubbed his mouth. When he looked up at his two friends, he felt about as ill as they looked.

"Explains a lot, doesn't it?" Rodney said.

"Aye, it does." Carson deleted the file. "I wonder if the major knows?" he said softly.

Rodney and Zelenka both shrugged and shook their heads.

Then Carson began flipping through feeds until he found where Sheppard had been dragged off to. The man was currently just lying sprawled on the floor of one of the quarantine rooms and seemed unhurt. Good – at least now he finally had access to water. He closed the link down and called his work up again.

Rodney sat down in the chair in front of his desk. His hand came up and fluttered a moment before he spoke. "What I can't understand for the life of me is why is he keeping him here? Is he, what, trying to find a cure for him? Or is it just another new, sadistic facet to his already warped psyche, which I really could have done without witnessing, by the way."

"Where I grew up, we knew about wampyrs," Zelenka said quietly. "There is no cure, except beheading and fire."

"Then he's a sick bastard, plain and simple," Rodney said.

Carson closed his eyes briefly, and all he could see was Kolya emptying the gun into the vampire. Into Michael. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph – having names for them just made it infinitely worse. "We're going to have to do something about him," he said softly.

"Kolya?" Zelenka said. "We already are."

"No. Michael."

Rodney's head snapped up, and a second later he was on his feet. "Oh, no no no no no no no. We can't free him. That's … that's, oh that's a really bad idea." His hand went to his throat without him even thinking about it.

"I'm not talking about freeing him," Carson replied tiredly. Then he decided that yes, what he had in mind would free him in another sense. "We have to kill him."

"Oh," Rodney said in a very small voice and swallowed. He glanced at Zelenka and saw him nodding solemnly.

"Very wise," was all Zelenka said.

Rodney stared at Carson with his mouth hanging slightly open. That his friend was willingly contemplating killing something – granted yes, it was a blood sucking undead monster from hell, but still – that scared the crap out of him, big time. They needed to get this over and done with before the Carson he knew was lost forever.

-oOo-

Kolya sat in the mess and ate his dinner, alone, and as he contemplated his actions over the past few days he came to the conclusion he had made some grievous errors. The enlisted men he could see were openly ignoring him. He underestimated the major's popularity, it seemed. He would have to rescind the order to confine him to his quarters, but he was not about to reinstate him. He tapped his ear piece and relayed the command to let the major out on his own recognizance. That should keep some of the peace with his enlisted men.

Allowing the Pretender loose was, he had to admit, very foolish. It proved to be more adept at social interaction than he ever expected, and the friends it made in that brief time were some of the more powerful people here on Atlantis. It was a smart creature, that was for sure, and he knew it was somehow responsible for the seditious actions he could see growing among the scientists. He had hoped placing it in the holding cell for twenty-four hours would have humbled it some, but all it did was make it, and the scientists, more defiant. He still could not believe it actually got free and out of the building – but then, part of that was the major's fault for being lax. It was definitely the most intriguing specimen to date since the female.

Kolya smiled into his coffee cup. Ah, yes, the female. He had refrained from any physical contact with it, but that may have to change. It was immune so far to the drugs they had slipped into its food, but perhaps one of the new weapons would work on it. Stun it, strap it to a table, and let Tatiana get her samples. He set his cup down, the smile still on his face. Yes, that would work. Until then he would keep it in the quarantine room and hoped that it seeing another of its kind just as trapped and hopeless would weaken some of its own defiance.

Kolya stood and picked up his tray, and as he walked over to the dish line he glanced up in the back corner and saw the big hunter, Ronon, watching him openly. Hostilely. The woman doctor was with him, her slender back facing him. He did not like the man's attitude – he had no respect for authority, that one. But he was skilled and useful for the time being.

But the doctor …. He sighed as he sat his tray on the conveyor belt. She and Beckett were becoming too belligerent for their own good. He was going to have to do something about them before it got out of hand. Apparently taking Beckett down didn't knock any common sense back into the man. He would have to rectify that error as well. Too bad – the man was a very brilliant scientist as well as a competent doctor. But he did have an idea in mind, and as he left the mess his smile returned.

-oOo-

Ronon watched Kolya leave and stabbed his Swiss steak so hard he actually bent his fork. Keller jumped and almost inhaled her water. "Uh, Ronon? It's already dead," she said between coughs.

Ronon looked at her, then looked down. He just grunted, bent his fork straight again, and kept eating.

"Okay," Keller murmured. "Either you're channeling your inner-Neanderthal a little more than normal this evening or something is bothering you."

Ronon looked up and blinked, then he grunted again and grinned. His grin got even broader when she picked up a piece of lettuce and threw it at him.

"Jerk," she said, but there was no anger in her statement.

"Been distracted," he said and tossed the lettuce back at her. He attacked his meal with a little more restraint. He'd heard Sheppard had been moved out of the holding cells, but he was now in a more secure area. He didn't know if Lorne knew yet or not, and he wished he could get word to the major – the guards at his door weren't letting anyone even pause in the hallway. It was going to make getting John out even more difficult, and it was starting to look like they'd have to break him out in transit if they were going to do it. And that was going to be messy.

"I've noticed," Keller said and smirked. "Your grunts have had more syllables than your words tonight. I didn't realize you had such a nuance with them." That earned her a more relaxed, genuine smile. "You're worried about Lorne."

"Yeah." Ronon said. "And the new guy. They moved him to the brig."

"Oh. That's good, isn't it?"

"Yes and no." Ronon was about to say more, but he looked up just then and his eyebrows rose. "Holy shit," he rumbled. Curious, Keller turned around and saw Lorne coming into the cafeteria. Alone. A few minutes later he was sitting down with them. "How the hell did you get out?" Ronon asked.

Lorne shrugged. "Bates unlocked my door, stuck his head in, said I was free to go. No explanation or anything." The tight lipped frown settled in place with too much ease. "Quite frankly, it scares the shit out of me." He unwrapped his silverware. "So, what's happened in the last day?" As Ronon updated him he ate slowly. He shared the same opinion of Sheppard's move – it could make things really complicated. He turned to Keller. "How's the doc doing? That's quite the shiner he's sporting."

"He's doing good, except Rodney is driving him crazy with Braveheart analogies."

"Huh." Lorne fixed her with concerned look. "And how are you doing?"

"Okay," she said and offered him a little smile. "Kolya makes me nervous as hell, but that can be said for three-quarters of Atlantis right now."

"I hear ya," Lorne replied. He was pretty sure that Kolya suspected something was up – he had to by now. And that added a whole new level paranoia he really didn't want or need. "Well, we all knew this wasn't going to be a fun ride once it started."

"Yup," Ronon replied. Then a slow smile lit his face. "But it's going to be worth it."

Lorne matched Ronon's smile. "Oh, yeah."

-oOo-

I am so sorry if I startled you. You do not know how wonderful it is to have someone who can hear me again, the woman said in John's mind and smiled in relief.

"Uh, yeah," John said out loud.

I am Teyla Emmagen, she said and gave her head a brief bow.

"Um, John. John Sheppard."

Teyla's smile took on an amused cast. You do not have to answer me out loud. I assure you, I can hear you fine.

Um, sorry, John thought very carefully.

Teyla winced. You do not need to shout, either.

John smiled sheepishly. Um, sorry, out of practice. He hadn't spoken to anyone like this in, wow – since his mother. Almost thirty-five years.

Ah, much better, John Sheppard. It is a pleasure to meet you. Teyla cocked her head and regarded him. Your aura is … very different. I am unfamiliar with your clan.

Onca, House Nahuel, John replied as he carefully got to his feet again. His ass hurt now on top of everything else, and it was mildly embarrassing.

Teyla's eyebrows rose. Oh, she replied, and the surprise was very clear along the link as well as on her face. I did not realize …. Forgive me. She dipped her head again, her eyes lowered, and offered him a graceful curtsey.

Don't, John thought and frowned.

Teyla lifted her eyes and cocked her head. But your house - you are of royal bloodline, are you not?

I am an outcast, John replied disgustedly and turned away from her. He went over to the bed and sat down carefully. An exile. I didn't share the same views as my father did about humans, and that pissed him off big time. He frowned tightly as he unfolded the towel and waved it a few times to cool it back down again, then he refolded it and held it back to his eye. So just … don't. Okay? I'm not a part of that bullshit anymore.

All right, Teyla replied carefully as she straightened back up and tactfully changed the subject. Where did the humans capture you? she asked.

Montana, John replied. Even though it was a stiff hospital mattress, it felt heavenly and he wanted nothing more than to just tip over he was so exhausted.

That is Ursus Clan territory, is it not?

Ursus and Lupus, John replied. Western part is neutral ground. I stay out of the politics, they let me be.

I see. Teyla settled gracefully into a cross-legged position.

John gave his chin a little lift. Um, no offense, but what clan are you? All the Sidhe I've ever seen are tall, willowy, disgustingly pale things.

Teyla smiled, and there was nothing but mild amusement in the expression. I am of the Sekhmet, House Athos – we are a warrior clan originally from Egypt. But our numbers now are few.

Oh, John thought, and his eyebrows reflected his internal dialogue. You're a long ways from home.

Now Teyla looked even more amused. I was living in Las Vegas when they captured me.

Let me guess, you were working at the Luxor. When he saw the amused smile turn into a mildly annoyed frown he back pedaled. Um, sorry, didn't mean to insult your….

The corner of Teyla's mouth rose a fraction. I was part of the security force for the resort.

John let out a relieved breath and grinned sheepishly. Bet your absence was noted.

I am sure it was. She cocked her head again. And yours?

No. John lowered his head and cooled the towel down again. He found he could actually open his right eye a little, now, and as he put the cold compress back in place he kept his gaze on the floor.

I am sorry, Teyla replied. John just waved off-handedly. They will be bringing the evening meal in a few hours. If you wish to get some rest I will wake you when it arrives.

"Thanks – I appreciate that," John said out loud. He lifted his head and gave her a faint smile, then he settled back with a soft groan. The paper covering under the stiff pillowcase crinkled as he got comfortable, but it didn't stop him from sighing. The first few times he started to doze off he'd have a full body flinch that would jerk him back awake, but eventually he did manage to drift off.

And he had to fight to wake up when Teyla called to him awhile later. A guard brought one tray, which he sat on the table that was in the short hallway between the rooms, and when he left a moment later only her door unlocked. Yeah, it didn't surprise him. Teyla tried to open his door, but it had one hell of a seal, and their combined strength didn't budge it. A few swings with a chair didn't leave a mark, either. She held her hand to his window, an apologetic smile on her fine features, and John touched his palm to the glass as well. He could feel the frustration and disappointment radiating off of her. Thanks for trying, he said. He drank some more water then went back to bed, his back to the glass.

End Note: Jeez, John just can't catch a break, can he? If you're still unsure what he is, see panthera onca