He loves you, he loves you lots
It all came to a head on an otherwise rather dull and boring day for which he was eternally grateful because he didn't think he could have dealt with any more stress right then. Besides the cough that was growing in intensity and resulting in more and more petals hastily stuffed into his coat pockets to avoid detection, he had developed a mild fever that was clouding his mind to a disconcerting degree and to which he therefore attributed the weakness of his mental defenses.
Wraith were a telepathic race first and foremost, rarely relying on verbal communication among each other when not particularly emotional, and considering the number of Queens with impressive abilities he had had to deal with in his time, he had been able to hone his skills of shielding himself. As such, there really was no other excuse why his second-in-command had found out about his state of health as quickly and easily as he did. Although he trusted the younger Wraith who would be his successor in case of his demise, he had not planned to expose his condition so soon, instead hoping to be able to arrange a smooth transition on the ground of his prolonged stay in the Lantean City.
As Commander and due to the consequential strong bond to each of his people, he was attuned to them, but in that moment he hated it almost as much as when he had first been thrown back into this chaos after the escape from the imprisonment by the Genii. He had needed some time to accustom himself to it all once more and get used to the familiar ever-present presence of his kin in his mind after the long silence that the experience had meant for him, shut off from the world and the light of the stars.
Now, the sudden turmoil he was sensing from his kin, ensuing from the confrontation with his right-hand man that had been projected all across the city and into orbit to his Hive, lead to the pressure between his temples building and had him leaning against a wall with his head tipped back and fighting wave after wave of nausea. Of course, it didn't take his fellow Wraith long to storm into the room they were all rather inconveniently gathered in at that time, for a long second just staring at him while he was ineffectively trying to hide another sudden coughing fit behind his hands as if to prove him right.
Even if he had been able to speak, there was absolutely nothing he could have possibly said to his lieutenant to ease the fear he could subtly sense underneath all of his anger, so he didn't waste any energy to attempt to reassure him with his thoughts either, just keeping up their steady connection. This was a situation neither of them could control or change and it wouldn't help to suggest otherwise, to tell him they would find a solution if there existed none.
His deputy turned away from him to fix his blazing eyes on Sheppard, because of course he would suspect him first. "Do you moron have any idea what you have done to him? How in all the galaxies could you justify such cruelty?" Hissing aggressively, he was on the human in seconds. Muscle memory led him to raise his hand, but instead of with a palm flat on the man's chest it merely ended with a fist bunching up the fabric of his shirt collar. This slow, but gradual improvement was likely the only reason his companion didn't have any weapons trained on him yet.
The Colonel slowly raised his hands in defense. "Whoa, I didn't do anything." It probably said a lot about him and their relationship that his first instinct was no longer to aim a gun at the agitated Wraith's head and that he, contrary to his habit of standing his ground, stepped back to de-escalate, surrendering. "The therapy also worked perfectly on Todd, according to Keller and her team."
For all his efforts, a growl was the only answer he got and alarmed he saw from the corner of his eyes the Satedan reach for his gun. The former runner was already being extraordinarily patient, having waited so long to take action, but knowing his temper and noticing the tense lines around his eyes, he realized the man was just short of firing a shot at his second-in-command.
Before the other one could continue to provoke the irritated warrior, he pulled himself up, grabbing a hold of his right-hand and shoving him back into the wall to step in between them, choking down a petal that had been forcing its way up his throat. "Calm down this instant! There is no way he could have possibly known about it. Think about it! He is not to blame, he is not at fault," he snarled through gritted teeth.
"But I was right, was I not? It's him." The bitter disappointment in the younger Wraith's voice hit him almost as hard as the pity he saw in his eyes, harshly reflected back to him. "You were always too interested in the humans and too fond of this one. You old fool, you just had to form an attachment to him."
He hastily threw a look over his shoulder to make sure no human had caught the hissed accusation, before he directed a withering glance at his fellow Wraith and bared his teeth. "Be quiet, will you! Or leave now." Had it been anyone else, he would have silenced them more permanently without a second thought, but this was his lieutenant and they knew one another long enough to have him appreciate his opinion, at least usually. However, just because he was right, didn't mean he liked it or had to put up with it this time, listening to truths he'd rather ignore for as long as possible. "They have absolutely no idea what is happening and that should remain so."
Naturally, Sheppard used that moment to speak up. "Now, will someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?" he demanded, pale green eyes narrowed and standing with his hands on his hips. His posture practically screamed that this time he would not give up and back down. "The two of you seem to know a lot more than you're admitting."
Just like before, as all focus turned to him, he found himself yet again trapped in a coughing attack, even though he bit his tongue to keep it in and suppressed the shudder wracking his body. Already exhausted from the previous discussion and the pounding of his head and resignedly realizing that his secret would have to be revealed, after all, far too soon for his liking and to a far larger extent than he had been prepared for, he wordlessly pulled a fistful of petals from his pockets, still spitting more into his free hand.
The ones he held out to show them were a withered copy of the ones falling from his lips, most of them still a pure white, but some already slightly tinted with a pink hue. Their tone would further progress to darker shades while he got worse. It was said that they turned red, so the blood from the wounds caused by the thorns ripping apart his heart and lungs wouldn't be noticed and it could still remain a beautiful if nevertheless morbid picture.
Stilling himself and quieting his sounds, he was met with confused silence until McKay broke it, curiously concerned, "Okay, so the therapy was not supposed to turn you into a vegan with binge-purge disorder. Mind explaining what this means?"
"He is in love and it's killing him," his deputy bit out abruptly, his stoic expression belying the storm of emotions hiding underneath the impassive facade he had created for himself once more, "literally."
