Chapter Seventeen

The next morning Alex waited patiently outside Michael's door. Once ready, she escorted him to the infirmary for his injection. Something else she had decided that might make Michael more comfortable would be if she would get her injection in the infirmary, too. Michael seemed surprised when she hopped up on the bed next to him.

"Yep, I'm diabetic, too," she grinned. Catching sight of Beckett she called, "Oh great and powerful doctor! Give us your life-saving drugs!"

Beckett frowned darkly at the sight of them, and more so at Alex. She cut her eyes toward Michael and winked adding, "If he's going to be in here every morning, I might as well come with him."

Catching on, Beckett still wagged a finger at her. "You joke, but the next time you have a seizure, we'll see who's joking, then."

"Relax, Doc. I'm just trying to lighten things up in here. You're grouchy when you haven't had your coffee."

"I am not!"

Alex turned to Michael. "I'd say that response qualifies as grouchy. Wouldn't you?"

Michael's eyebrows shot up as he put his hands up signaling neutrality. But he watched the two of them closely as the doctor prepped their injections. Something about the way they interacted seemed…off, somehow.

"Your name is Carson Beckett. I'm Michael Kenmore. What's your last name?" he asked, turning to Alex.

"Cantwell," Carson called out before she could answer, not sure if she had a name ready or not. "As in she 'Can't very Well' keep her comments to herself."

To this Alex replied in the most childish manner possible. She stuck out her tongue, making all of them chuckle. Something still felt off, but the release of tension eased it somewhat. They were soon out of there and headed for the mess hall for breakfast. After which he had a meeting with Doctor Heightmeyer and Alex…must have something to do; but she probably just didn't feel like sharing with him. She just said she'd swing by Heightmeyer's office in an hour to see if he was ready.

~o~o~o~

Sheppard and Alex watched from the monitoring room they had set up as Michael paced Heightmeyer's office. Initially he had started off in a chair across from her, but his agitation had him pacing within moments of entering her office.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "It's just frustrating. I don't remember my own family. Let alone my girlfriend."

"And how is Alex taking this?"

"Fine, I guess. She said she wasn't going to push things. But I feel bad. I want to remember her. Does my family even know?"

She seemed to consider this for a moment. "Given the nature of what we do here and how secretive it is, we can't risk it. Until we declared you dead, we weren't going to say anything. Now, we feel it's best to give you time to regain some memories, first; to avoid anything classified from being slipped."

"Will I regain my memories?" Michael asked, bluntly, leaning on the back of his chair.

"I'm not going to give you false hope. But, yes, most people who suffer from this sort of amnesia do eventually recover most, if not all of their memories. We will continue these sessions—daily if needed—and maybe even try hypnosis or other methods. But I'd like you to try to regain them naturally, first."

Michael dropped his head as if in defeat before coming around the chair to sit. "Where do you want to start?"

"He's suspicious," Alex told Sheppard and Weir in the monitoring room. "He knows there's more, but he doesn't know what, yet."

"Are you sensing this?"

Alex shook her head, as much to shake off her dark thoughts as to answer. "No. Just his body language. From time to time I see him gazing at someone or something as if he knows it or them, and I have to distract him. It's almost like the memories are there, but repressed, and he's constantly trying to get at them."

Sheppard and Weir shared a look. This was not looking good.

"What about what she suggested?" Alex asked, an idea forming in the back of her mind.

"What do you mean?"

"Hypnosis. I've read a little bit about it. Is it possible to plant memories?"

Weir seemed intrigued by the idea as John just shook his head uncertainly. This was definitely out of his scope.

"I'll talk to Kate and see what she says. For now, just keep with what you're doing," Elizabeth told her.

~o~o~o~

Three days into this routine and Michael had begun to show more than a few signs of stress. Colonel Sheppard's monitoring crew had noted that on more than one occasion Michael had woken up with a violent start. Nightmares were obvious. But, so far, he had yet to mention them to Carson, Kate, or Alex. They could only guess at the content. On the fourth day, Alex decided that it was time to get him talking about them. Once again facing off in a sparring room alone, she made her move.

"So, what are the nightmares about?"

This threw him so far off that he literally tripped himself. "What are you talking about?" he snapped, rolling smoothly to his feet.

"Fine, be that way," she said, backing up so he could regain his feet. "I just thought I'd give you a chance to talk about it. But, then, that's what Doctor Heightmeyer's for, right?"

"It's nothing."

For a moment they were too engaged in trading blows to say much of anything.

"'Nothing' is what's keeping you up all night? You're off your game, Michael. And you look like you haven't slept since you left the infirmary. Keep that up and Doctor Beckett's gonna plant your ass back in there."

His chest heaving, Michael dropped his stance. Walking back to the benches, he grabbed a towel and a bottle of water. Turning back toward Alex, patiently standing where he had left her, he finally flopped down onto the bench.

"I'm remembering my time on the Wraith ship."

Feeling a tingle of fear, Alex approached. "Like what?"

"Like seeing…Hivemasters…warriors. There's hallways, and I'm walking up and down them…like…like I belong there." Michael gave a visible shudder, the horror clear in his voice. "I wake up and I see a Wraith in the mirror. My God, what did they do to me?"

Sitting beside him on the bench, Alex sighed heavily, falling back on her emerging acting skills. "We don't know. But they didn't use you for food, so there's got to be something."

"Did they plant something in my head?"

Alex shook her head. "Doctor Beckett says there's nothing physical. Why didn't you tell Doctor Heightmeyer about the nightmares?"

"How would you know if I haven't?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Because you wouldn't still be looking like the walking dead. I'm sure she would have found or done something by now," mentally kicking herself for her slip.

Michael sighed and let his head fall back against the wall. "She knows something. Doctor Weir, Doctor Beckett, Colonel Sheppard…they all know something. They're just not telling me. You're the only one I can trust."

"Oh come on. Now you're just being paranoid."

"Am I?"

Suddenly his expression turned darkly suspicious again. "You know, too. That's why you're always with me. You're just watching for them."

"Now you're pissing me off," she warned him, her eyes blazing. "I'll excuse a lot of crap from you, Michael, because I'm crushing on you and you're messed up in the head. But you start talking that crazy shit about me, and I'll knock you around until there's nothing left in that head of yours to worry about losing," she threatened, carefully exerting some telepathic control.

Michael's eyes changed only slightly, but suspicion was still all over his expression.

Forgive me, Carson, Alex thought to herself.

Leaning toward him, Alex grabbed him by the head so he had nowhere to go. She planted a kiss that left him no room to escape. Little by little Michael relaxed into it and eventually returned the passion. Alex could not help the tears that leaked out of her eyes. Her heart was breaking, but she didn't know what else to do to convince him she was thoroughly on his side. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Alex, they parted. Seeing her tears, Michael frowned.

Alex quickly scrubbed her face dry. "I'm sorry. It's just…what you said…that hurt."

"I'm sorry," he said with sincere remorse, taking her hand and squeezing gently. "It was uncalled for."

Shaking her head Alex pulled herself together. "No. Never mind. I'm just overly sensitive. I've missed you. But, ugh…I don't even know what I'm trying to say anymore."

Reaching out, Michael pulled her toward him to hold her close. "I'm sorry."

For a moment, Alex let herself be held; violently crushing the desire to shove him away. Feeling more composed, she took a deep breath and sat back.

"Please, talk to Heightmeyer. I'll come with you, even, if you want. I'm sure there's something she can do to help. Or even Doctor Beckett. Maybe he can give you something to help you sleep. But, please, don't keep doing this to yourself."

Michael nodded, tiredly. "I will."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

He shook his head. "No. I'll see what Doctor Heightmeyer says. And, you're right, maybe Doctor Beckett will give me something to sleep better."

"Good," she said, standing up. "Come on. I want a shower, and you look like you could use a nap. Meet up in say, an hour?"

"Nap?"

"Yeah. I'm going to shower and change clothes and then I'll come over to your room and we can nap for a while. Maybe having me there will help keep the nightmares away."

Michael seemed to consider this. "Okay," he finally agreed with a smile.

Beaming, Alex gave him another quick kiss before grabbing her bag and heading toward her quarters. The next thirty minutes she spent in the shower crying. More than anything, she just wanted to run to Carson and hold him tightly enough to never let go. Even though she knew this had to be done, it hurt more than she had thought it would.

~o~o~o~

"We could try another, larger dose," Beckett said, tiredly as they all met in Weir's office.

Sheppard, sitting with his arms crossed had already voiced his opinion that it was time to stop the experiment, since it looked like Michael was beginning to remember. Now he held his peace waiting for the others to decide. Weir looked to Heightmeyer for further guidance.

"It's possible a larger dose of the male formula might wipe out his memories, again. But what then? Do we start all over again? I think we should try a different tactic."

"Such as?" Weir asked as Beckett yawned attempting to focus beyond his exhaustion.

"I did mention in one of our sessions that we might try hypnosis to recover some of his memories. And I believe Alex posed the idea of planting false memories."

"But how?" Carson asked. "I mean, he's never been to earth. Even with false memories his mind will only fill in the gaps so far before it starts to fall apart."

"Maybe," Kate said, considering. "What if we used the hypnosis session to repress the Wraith memories and set him up with a video that would act as bits and pieces of his own memories? Missing parts like taste and smell would eventually fill themselves in. But, the faded, video-like quality of the memories can easily be explained away as natural, because memories fade over time."

Elizabeth seemed to consider this. Even John sat back for a moment, thinking. Carson just yawned again and nodded.

"It could work," Kate added, seeing them considering.

"Then let's do it," Weir agreed.

~o~o~o~

Weir and McKay hit up some of the best video editors in the city to put together a one hour video of what looked and felt like snippets of someone's life from earliest childhood to his arrival on Atlantis. The combination of cobbled-together videos and pictures from so many sources came out amazingly smooth. Having exceeded everyone's expectations, Weir and Heightmeyer deemed it time. When Michael came in the next day she suggested the hypnosis. Frustrated and tired from all the nightmares, Michael readily gave in.

Heightmeyer started the hypnosis session as normal, but once convinced he really was in the deepest stages she brought forward his Wraith memories. She instructed him to put those away, to lock them up. Then she sat him in front of the laptop to watch the video that had been made. She instructed him to remember it as he would his own memories; and to gradually begin to recall these new memories over the next several days. Hoping this had worked as well as she thought, she woke him up to play back part of a recording made to sound like Michael talking about some recent memories.

Michael listened intently. However, there was no mistaking the edge of suspicion and obvious frustration in his expression as he failed to remember these things for himself. Seeming at least a little hopeful, though, Michael left the session deep in thought. With Alex waiting for him right outside, he suggested lunch and then a sparring match. While he certainly felt as if he didn't need any physical therapy, there was no mistaking the need to burn off some energy.

Even as they sparred, Alex sensed something was off. Michael seemed withdrawn, distracted. No matter how she asked, he would just tell her it was nothing and get back to sparring. Eventually the two of them gave up on this activity. Michael suggested they go their separate ways, as he wanted some time to think. Not liking the idea of leaving him alone, but knowing there were enough cameras to keep an eye on him, she quietly agreed.

After a quick shower, she decided to watch him the only way she could without arousing suspicion. In her room across the corridor, she sat and focused on him. In a state, not unlike meditation, she could sense Teyla somewhere in the city. Michael, being much closer, she could sense more clearly. But it was dulled and muted; not unlike how her telepathic sense felt to her after first becoming human. Thinking it was just his weakened ability due to having been converted to human, she relaxed a bit. There was no doubt his mind was in turmoil, but if she probed too deeply, she also knew he would likely as not sense her. She was amazed he hadn't already just in their day-to-day interactions.

After a couple hours of observing him, she recognized that he had gone to sleep. Though she was surprised at how early he had gone to bed, she couldn't really blame him. He looked as if he hadn't slept since he woke in the infirmary almost a week ago. Hopefully whatever Doctor Heightmeyer had done to him today helped repress those Wraith memories that kept coming through as nightmares. Thinking that tonight he would sleep soundly, Alex decided to go get some dinner and come back to her room and silent observations.

She must have dozed off at some point, still in her clothes. Alex wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep. But, by the feel of it, it couldn't be much after midnight. She knew instantly that it was someone at the door that had woken her. She was still feeling a bit dazed and confused as she pulled herself up off the bed. She couldn't remember hearing the door chime, but she knew Michael was out here. She knew, too, she had to let him in.

Part of her screamed that she didn't want him in her quarters, alone. But a greater portion of her mind knew she had to let him in. He was nice to her. She liked him. She wanted him in her quarters where they could really be alone. Alex opened the door to see Michael smiling in a way that made her heart jump in fear. Only when her intense blue eyes met his intense dark brown ones did she finally realize what was happening.

He knows! she thought in horror.

Michael knew he was a Wraith, and he had used his telepathy to manipulate her while she was half asleep and vulnerable. He had waited for her to fall asleep and then pounced. Now aware, she was able to close him out of her mind; but she was too late in being able to dominate his mind. He already knew he'd had the upper hand all this time. She didn't even have a chance to scream before he was in her room and the door closed. Unlike the quarters setup for Michael, they had not put any cameras in her temporary quarters.

She was on her own.

He towered over Alex as she lay on the floor waiting for the next move. For a moment Michael just grinned triumphantly before glancing around. If there were cameras, he couldn't see them. Either way, he knew he had to move quickly. If his suspicions were correct, they would be coming for him within minutes of going on his late night walk. His smile seemed entirely psychotic to her as she lay there, ready to move the moment he gave her an opening. Instead, he took a deep breath through his nose.

"It's not as strong as I remember, but I can still smell your fear," he told her happily.

"Michael, I don't know what you think you're doing, but this is not going to help you."

"There is no help for me now. I've been converted to a filthy human. I'm an animal, now. I have nothing to lose. But, tell me this, and things may go very differently for you. Is it permanent?"

Sensing that lies would do no good here, she forced herself to calm. Somehow she had to find a way to take control of his mind, of this whole situation.

"No. If you stop taking the drug, you revert back to a Wraith. How long it takes, we're not sure. You were a test subject."

"I already know that!" he roared. "Get up! Move! Sit on the bed!"

His chest heaving with barely contained rage, Michael stood just out of her reach. "I remember. I remember it all. Whatever Doctor Heightmeyer tried to do failed miserably. She gave me the key to unlock my own memories. The real memories.

"I remember you. You were there. You lured me with your mind. I thought you were a queen calling to me. But now I have you. You were a queen, but you're long out of practice. You've been human for too long."

Michael's intense burning hate came right through his eyes and bored into Alex. "You dared to call me friend, and more. I will give you this one chance. Join me. Return to the Wraith. Be a queen again. Help me escape."

Her answer must have been clear in her expression, because the next thing Alex knew he was on top of her strangling the life out of her. Again, she had not even a chance to scream. His incredible speed was beyond what even she remembered of Wraith. She struggled and bucked and kicked and scratched, but to no effect. Gradually the darkness began to take over her vision. She felt her limbs grow more and more distant. Tears of physical pain that had stung her eyes now turned to heartache as she thought of what this would do to her beloved Carson. Already the world was fading away.

~o~o~o~

Colonel Sheppard watched with a sense of dread, feeling something was seriously wrong with the fact that Michael had gotten up in the middle of the night still dressed and gone to Alex's quarters. Whatever mental and emotional game she was playing with him to keep him off guard, this just didn't feel right. He didn't take the time to analyze what it was about the brief piece of video that set off alarms in his head. Instead, he sent a pair of Marines to check on her with orders not to knock, and to get her out of there using any possible excuse. If they were cuddled up together, it would just be a little embarrassing. If it was anything else, Michael was dead.

~o~o~o~

Michael watched the life draining out of Alex's eyes. But he wasn't done yet. He just wanted her incapacitated for now. He checked to make sure she was breathing, even if shallowly. He wasn't stupid enough to believe for one second that he wasn't being watched. He knew already that someone was headed this way. He just hoped they believed his late night visit to Alex's quarters was innocent enough not to send a whole team. Patiently he waited just inside the door. Finally he heard the footsteps approaching. Too bad for Alex they were so slow. Had he intended to kill her, she would have been long dead by the time they arrived. Disappointed at the lack of weapons in her quarters, but not surprised, he anticipated the fight with a predatory grin.

The moment the doors opened, Michael grabbed the pistol from the man's hands breaking almost every bone at the same time. In less time than it took for them to register his presence in their slow little minds, both were on the floor dead. He took the vest off one and put it on himself. The other vest he put on Alex and then hefted her up onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry. From here on out, she was just a hostage. How valuable remained to be seen.

Other than the handful of times he had seen the map of the city in the teleporters, he had no idea where to go. It made sense that the main spire was where most of the activity and population would be. He needed to get away. From what he knew of Atlantis, it was isolated in the middle of an ocean. His only real escape was the Ancestral Ring; and that was impossible. If he couldn't make it off this planet, he was going to take Alex with him. He still hoped he could sway her into helping him call to the nearest hive. There had to be one within range. He refused to believe otherwise. Everyone knew Atlantis had been destroyed, but that didn't mean they couldn't still locate him if he called strongly enough. He knew there was no hope of ever really going back; the taint of human would be with him forever. But, he could still see to the destruction of the city.

With Alex still slung over his shoulders, Michael made it to the nearest teleporter. He studied the map for a moment before picking one of the furthest sections he thought he could get to with the least amount of resistance. From there he exited another teleporter in what looked to be a virtually abandoned part of the city. Heading further and further away from the main spire, he sought an area with no electricity. Only there would he be safe from prying eyes. And, as big as the city was, so long as he kept moving, they were unlikely to find him in time to stop him.

~o~o~o~

Seeing both his men fall just outside Alex's temporary quarters, Sheppard cursed violently. Calling for Major Lorne and multiple other teams, he took off out of the observation room at a flat run. Whatever else happened, he was going to terminate this experiment himself.

~o~o~o~

Alex's return to consciousness was a painful one. Her head throbbed badly enough to feel as if it would explode. Slowly she became aware of the slimy, cold floor beneath her. In the total darkness, she reached out with her other senses. No, she was not alone.

"You're awake."

"I'm alive, you mean," she shot back, her sore throat croaking as she tried to gather her scattered thoughts.

"For the moment," he agreed.

Struggling to a sitting position, Alex had used the sound of their voices echoing off the walls to estimate that the room they were in was actually quite large, and they were along one wall of it. Beyond that, she had no idea. Even the foul smelling slime gave her no clue to their location.

"Why didn't you kill me?"

"I reconsidered. If I am to try to locate my brethren, I will need your help. Perhaps once you have begun to transition back into a Wraith queen you will remember your power."

"Not likely," she sighed. "Unlike you, I chose to be human."

"Why?"

"You wouldn't understand, and it makes little difference," she replied tiredly, trying to focus beyond the pounding in her skull. "I'm guessing, then, that we're still on Atlantis. At least you weren't stupid enough to try to get to the gate room. So, what next?"

"I am calling them."

Having already reached out her own telepathic senses, she sighed in relief at sensing nothing but the vastness of empty space.

"There aren't any hive ships near. You're wasting your time. Come back with me. Carson can give you another massive dose. It should repress the memories again. We can start over."

The rage Michael was feeling practically radiated off of him. Before she could react, he had taken a step toward her and kicked viciously. The blow landed on her thigh leaving it radiating pain in every direction. She hadn't heard the bone snap, but she still wasn't sure how much good it would be to her after that.

Instead of speaking further, Michael grunted somewhere nearby in the darkness. Alex could sense his pain. The change was already occurring in him. Though she had no idea what time it was or how long she'd been unconscious, she was very much aware of her own pending change. If she didn't get her injection soon, she was sure the change would start for her, too. They hadn't thoroughly tested how long she could go without the injections, as she had always been too afraid to try. And the results on inanimate tissue samples were entirely inconclusive.

Not for the first time, Alex found herself unspeakably grateful that she always kept that little kit with the handful of injections on her at all times. This time was no exception. She just had to somehow manage to get to it and get her dose without Michael knowing what she was doing. She knew the others would be combing the city for them. She just had to hold on long enough for them to find her.

For the moment, Alex just focused on the pain in her head, throat, and leg. None of them were life-threatening, but it gave her something other than the darkness to think about. For a moment she was thrown back in her mind to a time when her prison had been without power, and she had been trapped for days or weeks without light. Quickly she shoved those memories aside and tried again to focus on her injuries. There seemed to be no other injuries that she could detect from where she sat against the wall. Constantly she was wary of Michael's telepathic influence on her. Ever since the first successful invasion of her mind, Alex had managed to keep him out of her thoughts; though he probably could still sense her surface emotions. She began to wonder about his other senses. Obviously he could see far better than she in the dark, as his eyes and other senses were already changing back. But she was far from helpless, too.

Suddenly Michael chuckled darkly through his obvious pain. "They are coming. They have another with them. I can sense her. Idiots."

Teyla! Alex thought feeling like an idiot.

"How many others have they converted?" he asked very close to her now, either squatting or kneeling.

"Just the two of us," she told him truthfully, knowing he wouldn't believe her anyway.

This time it was his hand that came out of the darkness. He grabbed her by the throat and slammed her head back into the wall hard enough for her to see stars.

"You lie!" he growled viciously.

Alex didn't bother to argue. He wouldn't believe her about Teyla anyway. Instead of pursuing this line of questioning, Michael grabbed her by her hair dragging her upright. She attempted to position her feet in such a way as to kick him in the knee hoping to cripple him. The unmistakable feel of a gun in her side made her freeze.

"You will walk in front of me. I will tell you where to turn. Now move!"

Still reeling from the pounding headache and the most recent blow to the back of her head, Alex stumbled forward. It was meaningless to put up any resistance at this point. He could just kill her and move on if she made too much of a nuisance of herself. Instead she spent her time during their trek through the dark bowels of the city trying to come up with some kind of plan.

Alex knew all males possessed the telepathy she did, albeit in a much weaker form. However, in her human form, she knew she would likely not be able to exert enough control to stop him, either. His conversion from human back into Wraith was occurring frighteningly fast. And, along with his returning senses came the increased telepathic ability. Soon it would be powerful enough to overwhelm her.

Alex had no idea how far they had gone or how long they had been walking when he finally called a halt. Exhausted and still in pain, Alex briefly contemplated sleep. Throwing out this idea as suicidal, she tried again to focus her scattered thoughts beyond her rising panic. Something about Teyla had tickled the back of her mind; but, she frustratingly just couldn't make it coalesce. Various parts of her felt as if they were itching or crawling. Whether it was from the slime and other undesirable things she'd encountered down here, or it was from her own change starting, she didn't know. But there was something about Teyla…

She must have fallen asleep at some point. The next thing she was aware of was Michael writhing in pain somewhere nearby in this much smaller room. He was groaning and near screaming with the pain of his conversion. Alex knew she had no hope of escape on foot with his superior vision, speed, and strength. Once he was aware enough to come after her, she was lost. Instead, she used his distraction to do two things. First she pulled the little kit out of her pocket. Forcing her trembling hands to stillness, she managed to get the injection in her arm successfully. At the same time she reached out to Teyla with her mind, hoping he would not be able to make sense of her thoughts while in such a pitiful state.

As quickly as she could, Alex fed images to Teyla that conveyed her current status and situation as well as instructions. Hoping Teyla understood, she then turned her attention to Michael. His agonized cries had slowed to whimpers. Focusing every bit of telepathic control she had left in her human state, she attempted to wrest control of his mind from him. It might have been minutes or hours, but all that was heard in that room was their breathing. Back and forth they battled, looking for openings. Within seconds Alex already knew she had no hope of seizing control of him, but maybe she could distract him long enough for Teyla and the others to find them.

Trembling head to foot with the exertion of their invisible, silent battle, Alex eventually lost. With a scream she fell back to the floor. Her mind felt as if it was being ripped apart. Moments later it was her body he was trying to rip apart. He grabbed her by her shirt, tearing it as he threw her across the room. She collided with a wall on the far side, stunning her. Before she could even hit the floor, though, he was on her again. Helpless she tried to block his blows with limbs that didn't want to cooperate. For some time he seemed to vent his rage on her, no longer caring if she was a useful hostage or not.

In the already consuming darkness, Alex felt her body fade away.