Harsh Dreams
"Mairghread."
The voice, familiar, longed for…
"Athair!" I cry, opening my eyes, only to find myself once again in the foggy world of our dreamed conversations, held across unfathomable distance. Athair stands far off, his shoulders bent as under a heavy load—his whole body, his whole countenance radiates exhaustion. In my mind, I run towards him until a thick, impenetrable, invisible force holds me back.
"Mairghread, what have you done? You've drained yourself, almost to the point of death, I can feel it. What were you thinking?!" my father's face is contorted with anger…concern…fear…
"Athair, Gilleasbachan is alive! But Athair, he was hurt so badly, I had to—" I begin, my words tumbling over themselves as I try to explain what happened as quickly as possible. Athair holds up his hands halting my rapid and confused explanation.
"Mairghread, slow down…. Wait, did you say Gilleasbachan is alive?" a strange look passes over his face; he had never hoped for this…to think that two of his children escaped the queen's genocide…
But I'm not sure we both survived.
"Yes," I nod vigorously before letting my sorrow seep into my voice. "But Dadaigh, the queen, she…she kept him as her slave. I don't know how he survived after all she did to him." I pause, bowing my head. "I'm not sure his spirit did survived. I'm not sure that death isn't the kindest—"
"No, Mairghread!" Athair cuts me off sharply, angrily, before saying quietly. "Never say that."
He looks so…old…so tired. It hits me, like a wall of water, shocking and soaking—Athair has longed for death, knows what it is to long for that sweet release from pain and captivity…
"I am sorry, Dadaigh," I whisper, suddenly feeling guilty, guilty that I alone from all my family should survive the queen's wrath unscathed but for the memory of what she did to my kin.
His countenance softens, and he smiles slightly while a look of thoughtfulness passes over his face. In a moment, his face again hardens, a hard decision made.
"Mairghread, you must not let Gilleasbachan give in. You must help him," he commands, begs me.
I want to help him, but I don't know that I can—physical damage is easily repaired, but the hurt done to his mind, his spirit? I am alone, I don't know I can absorb enough of his pain…
Athair seems able to read my mind. "I will try to help you," he reassures me, reaching out to me only to be stopped by the invisible barrier. "But I cannot promise to be always there."
"Dadaigh," I feel suddenly afraid, afraid that he will leave and I'll never see him again…
He glances over his shoulder as if someone beyond my sight were calling to him and he begins to fade. "I won't leave you forever, child. Go to sleep now…"
"Dadaigh!"
Darkness…
Cold…
Silence…
Weight...
Warmth…
Weakness…
Noise…voices talking, shouting, barking…chairs creaking…wheels squeaking…machines clunking…
Light.
My eyes snap open only to be greeted by the harsh glare of infirmary exam lights. I scrunch them closed, turning my head to bury my face in the cool darkness of the pillow.
Fire…every sinew of my body is on fire with hunger, craving energy…
Bed springs squeak next to me, protesting motion…
"Hey Doc, she's awake!"
Dad! I hear him call out to Carson, and then a soft click as the light over my head is turned off. More slowly this time, I open my eyes to blessed dimness and turn to see my dad standing beside my bed, dressed in the white patient scrubs. Before I have time to react, he has lifted me to a sitting position and is holding me tight in a crushing hug.
My body feels strangely…heavy, leaden. I can't seem to gather the energy to return the hug, or even to hold up my own head…
And, blessed be the Spirits, no energy to give into the basic instinct to feed…
Breaking the embrace, Dad holds me at arm's length—I try to hold up my head, but it flops back of its own accord—and shakes me slightly. "Don't you ever do that again!" he shouts, angry and worried, before pulling me to himself again and wrapping me in a less crushing embrace, one huge hand cradling my lolling head as he whispers, "I couldn't lose you."
"I'm sorry, Dad," I whisper back, the loudest I can manage. The hunger, it hurts so badly, and I am so tired…
"Ah agree with Ronon, lass," Dr. Beckett says on my other side. "Ye try somethin' like tha' again, Ah'll be keeping ye here till Christmas three years from now!"
Dad releases me, only to catch me again and lower me more slowly to the pillow, my body as limp and uncontrolled as one of my dolls. "What's wrong with her?" he demands, an edge of fear to his voice, though I can't be sure anyone but I heard it.
Carson flashes his penlight into my eyes, the light cutting into me as painfully as any knife. He listens to my heart with his stethoscope, and then rocks back on his heels to make his diagnosis.
"She nairly killed herself wi' tha' stunt o' hers," he turns his angry gaze to me. "Ye drained yerself severely, lass. Yer body is nae gonnae let ye have anathin' extra. But," he points to the IV bags hanging from the pole by my bed, "We've got ye on IVF, an' Ah'll have Kathy bring ye somethin' tae eat, build up yer strength." He looks to Dad. "Ye'll help her, Ah supposed."
"Yep," Dad responds laconically.
Carson smiles. "Good."
"Carson," I whisper, my voice weak and harsh in my own ears. "Gilleasbachan?"
The smile disappears, replaced with a worried frown and knit eyebrows. He crosses his arms over his chest in the manner that says the news is bad, not deathly bad, but neither is it good.
He sighs heavily. "Ah don't need tae gi'e ye the laundry list, Ah'm sure. He's alive, an' stable for the moment. Though Ah dunnae approve, tha' stunt did slow the bleeding considerably—just some minor bleeding from capillaries and smaller veins. Ah have him sedated an' in the scanner at the moment. Then we'll put him in one of the isolation rooms."
"Can I see him? Please?" I'm not asking, I'm begging. In my own ears, I sound childish, desperate. Which is exactly what I am—more desperate to see my brother than I am to feed—on anything, to slake this thirst, smother this fire, shake off this leaden blanket…
A nurse appears in my peripheral vision, bearing a steaming mug of what I assume to be the broth. Dad reaches over me to accept it while Dr. Beckett raises the head of my bed slightly so I am half sitting without risking falling over. Dad holds the cup to my mouth so I can sip through the straw—it is warm and slightly thick—hot consommé instead of the usual thin broth used to reacclimatize the starved to food.
Mmmm—I can feel the warmth spreading through my body, at once invigorating and relaxing. I can feel it—the energy in the broth, in the IVF, seeping into my body, cooling the fire of hunger, easing the crushing weight that sits on my chest, makes it difficult to breath.
"Tha' it, luv," Carson give my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "When ye've done wi' tha', Ah'll tell the nurses tae bring ye tae Gilleasbachan. The scan's almost done."
"Tapadh leat," I murmur, my voice still weak, childish, almost broken, and so tired sounding. Despite the energy I feel flowing into my body, by the time I have drained the mug, I feel sleep reaching out to embrace me, promising regeneration, peace.
" Go on," Dad tells me when he puts the mug on the tray. "Go to sleep. I'll wake you up when they bring your brother."
"Dad—" I start, knowing how much this bothers him, what my race did to him, reading the tension in every fibre of his frame knowing that there is another wraith in his territory—I'm not sure I count as a wraith in his eyes anymore. One of the veteran nurses, who had seen "Steve", "Bob" and "Micheal", once confided in me that she had a hard time thinking of me as a wraith, but more like a another species, one that happened to look like the wraith, like replicators look like humans. My mind is as exhausted as my body—it's running away with whatever skitters across it…
"Uhn-uh," he cuts me off as he jumps back onto his own bed and settles against the pillows, like the lions from the earth movies lounging on a rock face. "Sleep. Talk later."
I open my mouth to protest, but sleep is calling, so sweet…so soft…so…
TBC
A/N: Yes, I know, not a whole lot of action, but we're getting there! Hopefully, more updates soon, if I can stay awake enough--coffee, where's my coffee?! Please Review!
Dadaigh--Daddy
Taph leat--thank you