Inhibition13

John carried his heavily laden tray to a table. Sat. Began to devour his food in big bites. He barely looked as Rodney joined him, annoyed expression on his face.

"My God! Are you eating for two now as well?"

John snorted. "Maybe. I'm starving!" he replied around a mouthful. "What's your excuse?" He indicated the equally laden plate of food.

"I've been working. Nonstop. Unlike you. I see you apparently escaped your lovey-dovey quarantine."

John smiled. Started on his second burger. "Yeah." John pictured his wife as he had left her. Sprawled naked in their bed, fast asleep. A smile on her rosy lips. Her hair a glorious tangle across the pillows.

"You have no idea, do you?"

John swallowed. Took a drink of water. "Of what?"

"Colonel!" Carson joined them, frowning. "What are you doing out of quarantine?"

"Eating," John replied.

"He has no idea," Rodney informed.

"Oh."

"Of what?" John repeated. Set his burger aside. "Well? Is someone going to tell me?"

"How do you feel, John?" Carson asked, assessing the man's appearance. Mood. Appetite.

"Fine. Wonderful. Fucking fantastic if you really want to know," he added smugly.

"Of course," Rodney stated. Rolled his eyes.

"And Moira? How is she?"

"The same, doc. Exactly. Why? What's going on?"

"Where is she?"

"In bed. My bed. Asleep." His gaze narrowed. "If you don't believe me go look for yourself. But you'll embarrass her the way I left her." He smiled. "She's fine. Happy. Trying to work out this pulse wave thingy but I told her not to worry. Why?"

"Why am I not surprised?" Rodney commented, glancing at Carson.

"Lucky bastard, as always," the doctor agreed.

"What?" John slammed his palm on the table. "One of you tell me now!"

"Another fight. But this one turned bloody," Rodney answered.

"A fight?" John asked, looking from one to the other.

"Between one of Lorne's and one of Reynolds' men. I've had to reinstate the quarantine with guards. Blood tests reveal unusually high endorphin levels and activity in the lower brain regions. Again."

"I thought this was over. Finished. A day, you said," John sourly accused.

"Apparently I was mistaken," Carson admitted with a shrug. "I took the liberty of scanning their brains and–"

"Surprised you could find them," Rodney quipped, but Carson kept talking.

"–certain areas are overly excited."

"Overly excited?" asked John. "What does that mean?"

"It means the neurons are overly excited, firing at twice their normal rate. As if the men were hyped up on drugs or adrenaline or both. Or alcohol. It's as if their inhibitions have been set loose. Their modifying controls on their behavior stripped away, as it were."

"Can you cure them?" John asked.

"I've given them sedatives, for now. Monitoring these men will take some time. What I find curious, colonel, is that you haven't exhibited any unusual aggressive behavior."

"That's because I've been with Moira. I would never hurt her," John stated. "If this is just a pulse wave affect why isn't it wearing off?"

"Good question. Why isn't it, Carson?" Rodney echoed.

Carson shrugged. "I've no bloody idea. You should all be fine since you are no longer exposed to it."

John considered. "What if we are? Still exposed to it, I mean."

"How? I've scanned the entire city! No pulse waves on any frequency," Rodney asserted.

"Can this be eradicated like the enzyme?" John suggested.

"No. It's far more insidious. Causing neurological symptoms that I can't just wean out of you, or treat with ordinary drugs. Because there is nothing in your systems provoking it."

"How badly were the men injured?"

"One's got a broken arm. The other a dislocated shoulder. Bloody noses, black eyes. We're just lucky they didn't have their guns with them."

"And why the hell wasn't I informed?" John flared.

"What could you have done, John?" All looked over as Elizabeth Weir joined them. "You've all been affected by whatever this is. Until we can find a solution all 'Gate travel is suspended and you are all restricted to your quarters until further notice. Even you, John."

"Except for Moira," Carson stated. "I need her help. Her knowledge of the sub-Wraith could be crucial here. She is the least affected so I can rescind her orders of–"

"No."

"No? What do you mean no?" Rodney questioned. "We have to get to the bottom of this! Those men could prove to be dangerous if they become any more aggressive! What's worse is that this could spread to other members of this expedition! It could spread to me!"

"I said no," John stated. "She is affected as the rest of us. Her behavior is somewhat erratic and I don't want her subjected to any more stress or–"

"No, she's not! You said a minute ago she was fine!" Rodney argued.

"She's fine now," John clarified. "She stays with me."

"Colonel, you are being ridiculous! I won't subject her to anything. I won't let any harm come to her. You are under quarantine so go back to your quarters, please," Carson stated. "I'll come by to fetch Moira and take her–"

"No. You are not taking her from me, Carson," John stated. Moving to his feet.

"John? Of course he's not taking her away from you!" Rodney exclaimed. "Who would want an erratic pregnant woman anyway? He merely–"

John lunged, grabbing Rodney by the throat and choking him. "Don't ever talk about my wife like that again!"

"John!" Elizabeth exclaimed, grabbing onto his arm. "Carson, help me!"

"John, he didn't mean anything by that! Fine! She stays with you!" Carson grabbed his other arm.

John freed Rodney. Straightened as his arms were released. He stared at Rodney who was coughing, rubbing his throat. Face purpling briefly. "Sorry, Rodney. I...I guess I am more affected than I thought."

"You think?" the scientist croaked. Glared.

"Go. Take Moira some food, John. I'll be by soon to check on both of you," Carson urged.

John nodded. Glanced at Elizabeth who was staring at him. Partly in concern, partly in disparagement. He shrugged. "Sorry." He moved away from them, grabbed a tray and filled it for his wife. Ignoring their stares and quiet conversation about him.

Moira stirred, reaching. "John...oh John! John?" She woke. Sighed. Sat to view the empty room. She moved to the bathroom. Cleaned up and dressed in a white t-shirt, jeans. Hearing footsteps she stepped into the room to see John placing a tray of food on the table. "John. Oh good! I'm starving!" She moved to him. "John?" She touched his arm. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Eat. We're back under quarantine," he informed. Sat at the table.

Moira sat next to him. Began to eat. Drank some water. "Why?"

"Still...I don't know...infected? Affected? By that pulse wave. Men are still fighting. The violence is escalating." He watched her devour her burger, the fries. He snatched some from her plate, ate them as she glared.

"Oh. And?"

"And? And they're exhibiting increasingly aggressive behavior. Like I said. Carson says he can't treat it. Yet. He wonders why I'm not...well, affected that way. But since I just tried to choke Rodney I guess I am."

"You choked Rodney?" She stared. "Well, John, you've always wanted to do that."

He smiled for a moment. "True. But this...it was a gut reaction to something he said. And Carson wanted to take you away from me but I won't let him."

"John?"

"What? I tried to explain, Moira. How I'm not affected like that because I am with you. Here. And I'd never hurt you. Remember? It's a sexual release for us. Very sexual. Very." He smiled at her, gaze roving over her body. Back to her eyes. "The only way to be free of the enzyme, right? Repeated sexual intercourse."

"It's not the enzyme, John," she chided. "It's a pulse wave." She ate more, thinking. "It must still be happening."

"That's what I said," he agreed, "but Rodney said it wasn't. He's scanned the entire city. At least he couldn't detect it." He touched her thigh. "I guess we are just going to keep having sex until we're clear, baby."

"Hilarious, John." She sipped her water. "What did Carson say about the–" A knock interrupted.

John stood. "Stay here." He moved to the door. Opened it. Scowled. "Carson."

"Carson, please! John, let him in!" She turned in her chair as John reluctantly stepped aside. Carson entered, moved to sit next to her.

"Moira, love, how are you?"

"Fine. I was just thinking of you. From what John told me the pulse wave is still happening, but how can that be?"

"Nary a clue yet, Moira. I wanted to show you this." He opened a data pad. Displayed two wavelengths on the screen. "This is brain activity on the enzyme. This is brain activity on the pulse wave. Do you see it?"

Moira stared. "They're almost identical."

"Aye. The key is almost. This here," he pointed, "indicates higher neurological penetration. The overly excited neurons firing at a greater rate. And look where they are, specifically."

"Penetration?" John stood behind Moira. Hands on the back of her chair. He leaned to whisper in her ear, "I always find that overly exciting. Don't you?"

She snorted laugh. "John!" She sobered. "The lower regions of the brain. The more primitive brain, as it were. Significance?"

"Chemical. Purely chemical, not physical."

"Scans?"

"Here." Carson brought up another set. "These areas."

"Hypothalamus?"

"Areas controlling emotions. Primitive brain reactions. Aggression, jealousy, er, lust." Carson glanced at John.

"Sedatives?"

"Temporary."

"Firing?"

"Continuously but increasing."

"Lower brain like the proto..."

"Exactly."

"Whoa! Stop the damn shorthand!" John snapped. Hands tightening on the chair. "I really hate that. It's like you two have a secret language! Do you?"

She glanced at him. "Of course not, John. Only you and I have that," she soothed. Looked at the screen, then Carson. "Only the lower brain, the primitive...because of the proto-humans."

"Yes," he agreed. Elaborated after a glare from John. "This species of Wraith, the sub-Wraith, are, or rather were unlike anything we've ever encountered. The Iratus bug was the same. But the host wasn't. Not even human, correct?"

"No. Not even remotely human. Hominids, but they never developed into modern humans. They were a side branch on the evolutionary tree that died out. Their brains were much smaller, much less developed than ours, but apart from that frankly we don't know much about them. An entirely new species of Wraith!" She glanced at John. "I told you! See? And now they're gone! A mass extinction at our hands. At my hands." S he glanced at her hands, as if expecting to see blood on them.

"And a good thing too, Moira. We did what to be done. Prognosis, doc?"

"That's just it, John. I don't have one."