There were Wraith; but there were always Wraith. He was on one of Atlantis's many balconies; he was on an uninhabited planet, overgrown with lush, wild greenery; he was in a cave. He was on a Hive ship. There were Wraith. There were always Wraith.
Abruptly Ford was awake. It was a relief to know that he was awake, to realize he'd been dreaming, and he lay there for a moment with his eyes closed, savoring the feeling. When he opened them, he was not surprised to see that he was in the infirmary. Still in Atlantis. That was good; they must have won, then. Something next to him beeped softly, and a moment later Dr. Beckett entered the room.
"Good morning, Lieutenant Ford. How are you feeling?"
"Fine," said Ford, because that was what he always said, but as he said it he realized he wasn't fine. His jaw ached when he spoke; he moved his arm experimentally, and it ached, too. His head throbbed, particularly behind his left eye. He must have been really clobbered this time. "What happened?"
The doctor glanced at his clipboard for a moment. "How much do you remember?"
"Everything, Doc. Until I went into the water - I must have blacked out, huh?" He tried a smile, but that hurt too. "But I guess we beat them, didn't we, or we wouldn't be here." Beckett nodded slowly, but Ford noticed he wasn't smiling. It must have been bad. "Are they gone?"
"Are who gone?"
"The Wraith. The Hive ships that were attacking us."
"Oh, yes," said Beckett, scribbling something on his clipboard. Then he frowned. "Listen, son, you've been…you've been injured badly. You're all right now," he added, holding up a hand, "but quite some time has passed since that battle. A lot of things have happened."
That could mean anything. He took a quick look down at his body; he could see an IV drip just to his side, clear tubing feeding some mysterious liquid directly into his arm, but at least all his limbs were still there. But maybe Dr. Beckett didn't mean him. "Major Sheppard - he's okay?"
"He's fine. He'll be in to talk with you, I'm sure," said Beckett, but his eyes slid away from Ford's, and he looked awfully uncomfortable.
"You said a lot of time has passed since the battle. How much time?"
"Over a year. I'm sorry."
"Over a year? I've been, what, in a coma for over a year?" Beckett turned away, walking over to the large double doors that led to the balcony, and Ford felt an uneasy feeling begin to tickle at the pit of his stomach as the doctor gazed out over the ocean. Things just weren't adding up. "There's something you're not telling me. What is it, Doc? I can take it."
"It's not exactly easy," began Beckett.
"No, it's not," said another voice from the doorway; it was Dr. Weir. Beckett looked at her with an unmistakable air of gratitude and moved back to Ford's bedside. She was calm, as usual, and Ford felt a little of his tension ease, because if she was still there - if she was still in charge - it meant that Atlantis was okay. She shot a glance toward Beckett. "I take it there's memory loss?"
"What?" said Ford, at the same time that Beckett nodded and said, "Aye."
"No, I told you," said Ford. "I remember falling off a balcony, going into the water with that damn Wraith - pardon me, Dr. Weir."
"Quite all right," she said, but her smile didn't go all the way to her eyes. Her face was creased with concern and compassion, the way his grandmother had looked when he'd brought home a bad report card. She sat on the edge of his bed and looked at him intently. "That's the last thing you remember, Lieutenant? Falling into the ocean while battling the Wraith?"
"That's right. Then I woke up here."
"You don't remember anything else?" interjected Beckett. He looked at his clipboard. "The enzyme? Taking Sheppard's team -"
"Carson," said Weir warningly.
"What about Sheppard's team? I'm on the team. I'm still on the team, right?"
"You haven't been here for more than a year, Lieutenant. But when you've fully recovered I'm sure you'll be able to return to duty."
"Wait a minute. I haven't been here? Where have I been?" Ford had a sudden alarming vision of his body lying on the ocean floor for a year, and he sat up despite the pain. A monitor buzzed; Beckett moved to the IV drip and fiddled with something that must have sent medicine directly into his bloodstream, because a moment later he felt a numbing lassitude spread through his limbs. "I had a weird dream, just before I woke up, that I was on a jungle planet. And that I was on a Hive ship."
Weir and Beckett exchanged a glance. Finally she spoke. "It wasn't a dream."
If it hadn't been Dr. Weir telling it to him, Ford would never have believed the story. He'd attacked the doctor? He'd stolen a jumper? He'd kidnapped Major - no, Colonel Sheppard, Weir had said he was now - and Dr. McKay and Teyla? It sounded completely bizarre, and he said so.
"Well, of course it's bizarre," said Dr. Weir. "You were under the influence of this Wraith enzyme. Like being on drugs, I suppose."
"But it's completely out of your system now," added Dr. Beckett.
"And I've forgotten everything I did while on it? Wow, it's even more effective than tequila," Ford said. He grinned, but the others didn't grin back.
Instead, Beckett's look of unease deepened. "It's not quite like that. Your system was so addicted to the enzyme that your entire body chemistry had changed. In a sense, it was as though you were becoming a Wraith. If we'd just let the enzyme flush out of your system normally, most likely it would have killed you."
"Well, I'm obviously not dead, or at least, I hope not." That got a small smile out of the others, at least. "So what did you do?"
"Recently we developed a retrovirus that suppresses the Iratus bug characteristics of the Wraith, and enhances their human aspects - in other words, that makes them human. I modified this retrovirus to focus on the types of changes that you'd undergone due to the enzyme. Your memory loss is a side effect."
"But it might not be permanent," said Weir. "We thought it would be important for you to understand what has happened, so you don't get confused if the memories of the last year come back."
The whole situation was already confusing, thought Ford, but he just nodded. "You said the enzyme's completely out of my system now?"
"That's right."
"Then I'm okay for duty?"
"You need to stay in the infirmary for now. I want to be certain that you're fully recovered." Beckett hesitated. "You're quite weak at the moment, and there may be other side effects. I'd like to keep an eye on you, just for a few days."
"It does kind of feel like I've been hit by a truck," said Ford. "But after that - I'm cleared for duty, right?" As he spoke the words he felt an odd sort of déjà vu, like he'd been lying here before and had felt the same urgency, the same need to jump up, to grab his P90 and go kill the Wraith, protect the city. Involuntarily the muscles in his back and shoulders tensed, as though he were about to spring up; but after a moment, the feeling faded, and he lay back into the pillow. Dr. Beckett was looking at him oddly, and he remembered what Weir had said earlier. "I'm happy to let you keep looking after me until I'm better, Doc. Sorry about, you know." He shrugged.
"That's all right, son. It was the enzyme," said Beckett, but the wary look never left his eyes.
He heard Sheppard's voice in the outer room, talking to Dr. Beckett, and he straightened up in the bed. "Hey, Colonel Sheppard!" he called out. Sheppard stepped into the doorway and Ford couldn't help grinning. "Congratulations on your promotion - way to go, man!" Sheppard shrugged, and belatedly Ford remembered that Dr. Weir had said he'd been promoted just after the siege - over a year ago. "I guess it was a while back, huh? Well, congratulations anyway."
"Thank you," said Sheppard as he walked into the room. Behind him was a big guy with dreadlocks, wearing a kind of leather shirt - probably an Athosian, Ford guessed, the same light-coffee color as Teyla, taller than Halling. The tall guy stayed in the doorway and folded his arms, looking on impassively, which gave Ford the creeps.
"Who's he?"
The tall guy glowered and took a step into the room, but Sheppard shot him a look. "It's all right. Dr. Beckett said he had some memory loss." He turned back to Ford. "Aiden Ford, Ronon Dex. He's been with us for a while."
Ford nodded. "Nice to meet you." Dex inclined his head a little, but never took his eyes from Ford. His eyes said, I'm watching you. Creepy. "So did the doc tell you I'm good to go?"
"Actually, he said he needs to keep you here for a couple of days."
"I mean after that. Dr. Weir said I could return to duty when I'm fully recovered. You've got to brief me on what's been happening, get me back up to speed."
"Right." Sheppard pulled a chair over to Ford's bed and sat in it backwards, straddling the seat, leaning forward onto the chair back. "Let's see. We're still at war with the Wraith, we still don't trust the Genii, and we still have too many of the meatloaf MREs and not enough of the beef enchiladas."
"Yuck, sir," said Ford, and Sheppard smiled a little. But his posture seemed almost too relaxed, like he was overdoing it in his efforts to act casual. "But I'll put up with meatloaf if I have to. Better than hospital food, anyway."
"Dr. Beckett said you'll only have to put up with hospital food for another day or so. When you get out, I want you to check in with Captain Cadman." He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Ford. "You'll be on her off-world team."
Ford took the paper automatically, but his mind was racing. Captain Cadman? He didn't remember a Cadman among the officers. And her off-world team? "Excuse me, sir, but I thought I was on your team."
"Well," said Sheppard. His eyes cut toward the door, where Dex stood, then back to Ford. "You understand, we had to make some changes while you were, um."
"Yeah, while I was under the influence of some weird Wraith drug. But I'm better now, Doc said so."
"I know. And I know you don't remember what you did while you were on the enzyme. But the problem is," said Sheppard, looking down for a moment and then back at Ford, gazing into his eyes with clear sadness and sympathy. "We do."
"But I wasn't - I didn't -"
"We know. And we understand that, in our heads. But it's going to take a while for it to sink in where it counts."
Ford nodded slowly. Yeah, he got it; he didn't like it, but he got it. Survival out here depended on being confident in your teammates' abilities, in trusting them. Sheppard was looking at him like he still trusted him, but what about Teyla? What about McKay? They hadn't come to visit him yet, and he guessed they might not come at all, considering what he'd supposedly done to them. And that thought hurt. Because for him it had been just yesterday that he'd seen them, fought against the Wraith alongside them, working to save Atlantis together. But they thought of him as a twisted version of Aiden Ford, hopped up on something that the doctor had said was turning him into a Wraith. It wasn't fair.
Then again, nothing was fair; and if he'd expected life to treat him fairly, he wouldn't have joined the Marine Corps. He'd take this head-on, like he did everything else. He'd deal with it. And eventually they would realize he was okay, he was still Aiden, still himself. It would all be okay.
He was feeling pretty good when Beckett finally released him from the infirmary the next day. The aches had dissipated, and he hadn't had any more strange dreams. But when he walked down the corridor toward the military offices, he could feel the weakness in his muscles from having been in bed for so long. Beckett had told him to expect that, since the whole course of treatment had taken nearly two weeks, during which he'd been unconscious and flat on his back, but he was still a little surprised that his legs felt like overcooked spaghetti from a measly quarter-mile walk through the city.
Capt. Cadman looked up from her desk, grinning, as he walked in and saluted. "Hey, nice to see you back to normal, Lieutenant."
"I'm sorry, sir. Did I meet you when I was…." He waved a hand. She didn't look familiar. She definitely hadn't been among the first group to go through the gate; maybe she'd come on the Daedalus, or maybe she'd come sometime during his lost year.
"Have a seat," she said, indicating the chair by the desk. Then she shook her head. "Nah. I was part of the team that brought you in." She rested her chin in her hands and leaned forward, scrutinizing him. "You don't recognize me at all?"
"No, sir." She was blonde, good-looking, a couple of years older than him.
"Good thing, probably," she said cheerfully. "Because we had to really whale on you. It took six of us to subdue you enough to get you into a jumper and back through the gate. You broke Major Lorne's wrist - you really don't remember any of that?" He shook his head again, wondering who Lorne was. Another person who would avoid him, he supposed. "That enzyme practically gave you superpowers. Pretty darned impressive."
"Well, I'm not impressive any more. Right now I don't think I could beat up a ten-year-old kid."
Cadman nodded. "Carson said you'd be pretty weak for a while. I want you to work out at the gym to get ready for our next mission, which is going to be M4X-287. Should be routine, but you never know." She handed him a file folder. "In the meantime, you'll be taking over Company B. I've been in charge of both B and C since we lost Lieutenant Lewis two months ago, and let me tell you, I'm looking forward to cutting this damn paperwork in half."
"All right." He felt a deep pang of disappointment that he was obviously no longer Sheppard's second in command. It shouldn't surprise him, he knew; he'd been AWOL for a year, so to speak, and there were clearly a lot more soldiers and marines in Atlantis than there had been on the initial expedition. And it was to be expected that many of them would outrank him, and that one of them would take his place as Sheppard's XO, but still, it bothered him.
Cadman dismissed him, and he went to his new office. At least it was a decent one, with a good view of the city towers and a bit of ocean beyond. The military offices were clustered together, and although it was hard to determine exactly how many there were - Atlantis didn't run to nameplates - Ford guessed that there were maybe a dozen, fifteen officers, which would be two or three times as many as on the initial expedition. Which meant that they'd probably doubled or tripled the military presence, as well.
He leafed through the folder briefly, enough to tell him that they'd be accompanying two botanists on a mission to an uninhabited planet they'd visited before. Picking up additional samples, he supposed. Cadman was right, it looked routine. No hostile natives, no Wraith expected to show up, and even the plants were fairly benign.
But still, he'd feel better if his muscles didn't feel like jelly, he decided. And besides, Cadman had told him to work out; it had practically been an order. Time to go to the gym.
He was on his third set of bench presses when he began to feel as though he was being watched. Carefully he set the barbell into its slot on the rack and sat up, looking around the room as casually as he could, trying not to look like he was looking; standing in the doorway was the tall guy with dreads. Ford dredged into his memory for a moment before coming up with his name: Ronon Dex.
"Not as strong as you were before," said Dex. His tone was even, neither friendly nor unfriendly, and his face betrayed no hint of emotion.
Ford chose to interpret it as friendliness; might as well. "Yeah," he said. "I guess I was in bed a while, lost my muscle tone. A few workouts and I should be fine."
"I meant like you were with the enzyme."
He shrugged. "I don't remember."
Dex smiled, which didn't make him look any more friendly. "I do. I was stronger, too. It was good." He moved into the middle of the room, onto the wrestling mat. "Want to fight?"
"Not really." Not at all, to be honest. Dex outweighed him by probably fifty pounds, all of it muscle. And he didn't look like he'd spent the last few weeks in a hospital bed, either; he was fit and strong, and he moved gracefully. Like Teyla moved, and Ford had been on the wrong end of her sticks enough times to know that grace often hid a coiled strength that could strike without warning.
Dex shrugged and went across the room to the bar and began doing pull-ups, each one seemingly effortless. Ford watched him for a moment, then returned to his bench presses.
Ford had moved to the overhead press when a couple of NCOs he didn't recognize came in. "Hey, Ronon," said one. "Ready for our rematch?"
"Any time," said Dex. He sprang lightly to his feet and met the other man in the middle of the room. Ford racked his weights and turned to watch. The NCO was a burly guy with shoulders like a linebacker, and he moved a lot more quickly than Ford would have expected, but Dex was quicker still. They feinted at each other, lunging and blocking -
"Ha!" said Ronon, leaping over the bench and landing on Teyla. "Got you."
"You think so?" She twisted under him and pushed her feet into his chest, sending him flying across the room. He landed on his feet and came toward her again.
Ford grinned. "You see? The enzyme makes you faster, stronger, tougher. You can do anything. You've got to tell them about it, back in Atlantis. We can beat the Wraith with it."
Teyla and Ronon exchanged a look; then as one they were on him, Teyla going for his legs, Ronon straight on to his chest. Laughing, Ford kicked Teyla aside as he grasped Ronon and flipped him over his shoulder. "Don't even try. I've been on it longer, taking a higher dose. Don't you see? I'm a superman. We can all be supermen."
- and he was on his back on the floor, a half-dozen faces floating above him and looking down with concern.
"You all right?" asked somebody, and behind him someone else said, "Yeah, he just opened his eyes. Still looks kind of pale."
"I'm fine," said Ford. He looked around; he'd fallen off the bench. His head hurt, although it was an inside ache, not from having landed on anything.
"You stood up and started muttering something," said one of the men clustered around him. "Then you passed out."
Dex stepped between two of the others. "Dr. Beckett is on his way." That was the second voice he'd heard, talking into his radio.
"Thanks." He looked up at Dex's face. "I had, I don't know. A vision, or something. About the enzyme. You were in a cave. My cave," he said, suddenly remembering. The details were coming back, filling in like a connect-the-dots drawing gradually taking shape out of a haphazard scatter of points and numbers. "I had a group of men, and you were there, you and Teyla."
"Yeah, we were," said Dex. He held Ford's gaze for a moment, then turned away deliberately, back to the man he'd been sparring with. "You ready?"
The crowd around Ford moved forward, to watch the men go at it again, and nobody even turned their heads to watch when the medical team came in to take him to the infirmary.
"You should eat more," pronounced Dr. Beckett, looking at the test results. "Your system's trying to repair itself. You've got low blood sugar."
"Like Dr. McKay."
Beckett laughed. "Like he thinks he has, maybe."
"I started remembering things. I was watching Ronon Dex in the gym, and suddenly I remembered him. He was fighting with Teyla - not really fighting, just sparring. I had given him the enzyme. We were in a cave." He looked into Beckett's face, which had gone serious at his words. "That really happened, didn't it?"
"Aye. Or at least, that's what they said in the debriefing."
"Did I start remembering because I passed out? Or did I pass out because I started to remember?"
"Probably a combination of things," said Beckett. He looked at the readouts again, scribbled a note on his clipboard. "The changes to your body chemistry from the enzyme may have had more effects than we know."
"I thought you said the enzyme was out of my system."
"That it is. But what it's done to you may linger. When you cut yourself, you're likely to have scarring at the site of the injury. It's the same principle."
"Wait a minute," said Ford. This didn't sound good at all. "You mean I'm permanently damaged from the enzyme?"
"I don't know. We can only wait and see what happens."
"I guess it's good that I'm remembering, though. Isn't it?"
Beckett gave him a compassionate look and shook his head. "Son, there's a reason why we wake up with terrible hangovers and don't remember what we did the night before. Now you go and get yourself something to eat."
It was nearly dinnertime anyway, Ford figured, so he headed straight for the mess. A little early, maybe, but the mess was always open, a concession to the round-the-clock duty requirements and the days that were longer than Earth standard.
He picked up a hamburger - or what passed for it in Atlantis, which was actually pretty good - a plate of French fries, and a large juice drink, then headed out into the seating area. Even in late afternoon there were quite a few people there. It still seemed kind of strange to him, seeing so many unfamiliar faces. But at a table in the corner sat Dr. McKay, eating by himself, and although he wasn't really the kind of person that Ford would consider good company, he was someone Ford knew, at least.
And he'd been on his team - they'd gone off-world together, done a lot of weird shit together - and maybe he felt a little hurt that McKay hadn't stopped by to see him in the infirmary. So saying, "Hey, Dr. McKay," he set his tray down on the corner of the table.
McKay looked up and started choking on his food. "Easy," said Ford. "It's just me. You heard they found me, right?"
McKay nodded, but his eyes were wide and wary-looking. After he'd swallowed the mouthful he was eating, he said, "I heard, yes. I suppose I should say welcome back."
Man, he was always so prickly. "Yeah, you should," Ford said, grinning to show that it wasn't a big deal. "Miss me?"
More spluttering. "I'm not - I don't think - look, Lieutenant, is there something you want? Because I'm busy eating right now, and then I'm going back to work."
"Hey, wait a minute. I'm just trying to be friendly."
"Oh, that's a relief," said McKay. "Because you know what happened the last time you were just trying to be friendly? You shot at me." Then his face changed a little, eyes going even wider. "And I shot you. Oh, God, I shot…" He shook his head, as though to dislodge the memories.
"You - shot me?" It should have been shocking, but it was just funny, and he couldn't keep from laughing. Dr. McKay, who barely knew one end of a gun from the other, had shot him? Half the time Ford felt he was doing babysitting duty, trying to keep McKay and his mouth out of trouble.
"In the leg! You'd gone completely nuts, you were threatening me - you tried to kill me!"
Well, hell. Doc Beckett hadn't mentioned that. "But it was the enzyme, right?"
"Of course it was the enzyme!" McKay hissed. "Which you later got me addicted to, and getting over it, my God, I never want to do that again!" His face was going red. He wasn't quite yelling, but he was loud enough that people at the other tables were starting to look at them. McKay must have noticed that, too, because he lowered his voice. "Just - just - I don't feel, I can't talk to you, all right? Excuse me," he said, standing abruptly.
McKay must be really upset, thought Ford as he watched him stride away. He hadn't even finished his dinner.
M4X-287 was a desert planet, at least in the vicinity of the stargate, but even in a desert there were plants, and the ones that interested the Atlantis botanists were in a valley a few minutes' flight by jumper from the gate. Cadman piloted, with Ford in the second seat; then there were two marines named Bruckins and Stein, and two botanists. A pretty big ratio of military to scientists, thought Ford, but when Cadman landed the jumper on a plateau overlooking a deep river canyon, he understood why. Good thing he'd been working out, as Cadman had suggested, because he had a feeling he was going to be playing pack mule all day.
"At least there's a trail," muttered Bruckins as he picked his way down the steep talus slope toward the collection site.
"Huh," said Ford. "I thought this planet was uninhabited."
"It is," said Dr. Brown, behind him. "This is an animal trail. They've got something like goats here - you can see them sometimes across the canyon, and you'll see their tracks in the mud around the spring we're going to."
The spring wasn't too far from the rim they'd landed on, but it was a steep hike. Not too bad on the way down, lightly loaded with only his weapons, food, and a water purification pump, but after Ford's third trip up to the jumper with a load of carefully-packed plants, his thigh muscles started to protest. Even the downhill part was getting uncomfortable, at least on his knees. When he reached the spring again he collapsed in the meager shade provided by a rock overhang and took a long drink from his canteen. It was an oasis in the desert: ferns and moss sprouted from small crevices in the rock wall next to where the spring bubbled out, filling a small, sparkling pool in the reddish rock before tumbling down to the canyon floor in a thin waterfall. The low bushes that dotted the landscape were thicker around the pool, and greener, and it felt cooler there, somehow.
"We're not quite finished with the next set," said Dr. Brown, with a quick look up at him. She and Stein were carefully digging around a fleshy cactus with wicked-looking hooked spines.
"Take your time," said Ford. He'd just as soon relax for a little while longer. Bruckins was still on the trail - he was going up when Ford was coming down - and Cadman was digging and bagging plants with Dr. Parrish on the other side of the pool.
Abruptly there was a rumbling noise, and then the loud crack of gunfire -
"You got him!" crowed Kanayo, leaping out from behind the tree as Ford re-holstered his gun. Kanayo went immediately for the stunner, which was a good move; the Wraith was already starting to stir again, but a blast from the stunner and he was out.
"All right, let's get him back," said Ford. He lifted the limp form of the Wraith to his shoulders and began the trek to the gate, Kanayo behind him with the stunner, keeping an eye out for more Wraith. Man, he could never do this without the enzyme - the Wraith outweighed him by probably 20 pounds - but this was easy, now. Piece of cake. And with a captive Wraith, they'd be able to harvest the enzyme in their headquarters, keep a good supply going.
Soon they'd be able to hit those fuckers where they lived. And Atlantis wouldn't be able to ignore him any more.
- and he opened his eyes, and saw nothing but red rock and sand around him, and the cool greenery around the pool. Cadman was next to him, a look of concern on her face.
"Are you all right? You made a weird noise and keeled over."
"Yeah, fine," said Ford, shaking his head, trying to clear it. He looked around; the botanists were still on their knees, working. "Is everyone okay? I thought I heard shooting."
Cadman gave him an amused smile. "Rockfall. Happens all the time here - the goats kick little rocks off the slope and they hit bigger ones, and the whole mess rolls down. Probably more dangerous than gunfire, actually, but nobody's gotten hit in the head yet."
He felt like he'd been hit in the head, but he ignored it. "The next load ready to go up?"
"Here you are," said Dr. Parrish, handing him a wrapped plant. It was mostly just a ball of sandy dirt with a long and fuzzy green shoot sticking out; carefully he packed it into his backpack, then took the next one Parrish handed him and slid it in next to the first. Each load was small, at least, since the botanists didn't want to crush any of their specimens. He was probably only carrying fifteen, twenty pounds, but still, he noticed it when he hefted his pack again.
As he trudged up the path toward the jumper, Ford couldn't help thinking about the enzyme again. He was remembering it now, how good he had felt. How easy everything had been - he could have run up to the jumper, run back and forth six times without feeling tired.
It was all coming back to him, bit by bit. Kanayo, Robie, Jace. They robbed from the Genii and the Genii never knew what hit them. They could have taken on the Wraith. They were planning to, weren't they? He couldn't quite remember that, but he was sure they must have been, because that was what had always been on his mind. Blow those fuckers out of the sky. They could -
No sooner had he rematerialized in the Hive ship when he heard screams: Jace, Robie, and Corrin, plummeting down. That bastard Sheppard had done it on purpose. Probably trying to kill him.
"We have to go after them!" he shouted at Teyla and Ronon.
"No one would have survived that fall," said Teyla calmly. Shit, she was in on it, wasn't she. They all hated him. They all wanted to kill him.
- and Bruckins was shaking him. "Are you all right, sir?"
"Get the fuck away from me!" Ford yelled, and he was about to push Teyla away, but it wasn't Teyla, it was Bruckins, and he wasn't on a hive ship. He was sprawled on the reddish rock of M4X-287, half hanging off a rock ledge over a steep drop-off, and it was a long way down.
"No, sorry - I was confused for a moment, I'm fine," he said to Bruckins, who was already on the radio to Cadman. "I'm fine," he repeated. Then he threw up.
"It's my fault," said Dr. Beckett. His voice sounded as though it was floating down through the darkness, coming from a great distance. Ford tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt too heavy to move. He was in the infirmary again, he guessed. Not much of a surprise. He wondered how he'd gotten out of the canyon on M4X-287; Bruckins and Stein must have carried him up to the jumper.
"I shouldn't have released him for duty without having done further tests," Beckett continued.
"I assume you're doing these tests now?" Dr. Weir's voice.
"Of course. But it's all just preliminary, you understand. We didn't have any way of testing the modified retrovirus we used - the Lieutenant's case was unique. We could only make assumptions based on the Wraith transformations."
"At least it didn't turn him into a bug," and that was Colonel Sheppard speaking.
"Now you know I -"
"It's all right, Doc." Sheppard sighed. "It's not you. I just feel like I've failed him somehow. It's like losing him twice."
"We haven't lost him yet," said Weir sharply.
"Not physically, no. But you don't understand, Elizabeth. Nobody will work with him now. Teyla, Rodney and Ronon can't look at him without remembering what he put them through. Cadman's not going to trust his strength and his ability. You said these events happen when he's under stress. What if he passes out in the middle of a battle?"
"His strength may return. We haven't ruled that out yet."
"But you said it was unlikely."
"I said we don't know. His health is declining. These episodes take a lot out of him."
"Even if he recovers completely, he's not going to be able to function as an officer here. And I can't put him back on my team. If it were up to me, sure, but I can't ask that of the others." Sheppard paused. "I think we need to send him back to Earth."
No, don't send me back to Earth, Ford tried to say, but his mouth wouldn't move no matter how hard he tried; instead the blackness deepened, and the words floating in to him became distorted, and he sank again into an uneasy sleep.
He was on the balcony, fighting the Wraith drone, going over the edge, falling, falling. He was in a stolen jumper. He was on a jungle planet at night, Dr. McKay dangling upside-down in front of him. He was in a cave, his men with him, cheering him on as he explained his plan. He was in a Hive ship, fighting. There were Wraith. There were always Wraith.
When he opened his eyes Dr. Beckett was injecting something into the IV drip at his side. "Ah, Lieutenant, there you are."
"Hi," said Ford, more as an experiment than anything else. His voice sounded a little hoarse to his own ears, but at least he had control of it again. "What's wrong with me?"
"I wish I could tell you. Your recovery process is complicated. Your body is trying to assimilate your memories from the year you spent under the enzyme."
"Yeah, I'm remembering more and more." Just before waking he'd remembered throwing a knife through the webbed door of a Wraith holding cell. "One for them to find, one to keep," he murmured.
"Hmm?"
"Nothing," said Ford. "So why are these memories messing me up?"
"The memories are of a time when you had some of the characteristics of a Wraith. Now that you're completely human again, some of the memories don't quite add up. They don't make sense to your human body."
"Yeah, I can't leap tall buildings with a single bound any more. Hey, if you can change Wraith into humans, maybe you can change humans into - whatever it was I was. I mean, with the enzyme. You could change me back."
Beckett looked horrified. "Absolutely not."
"But you've got to understand, Doc. I was better than human. We could beat them!"
"It's out of the question. I'm not turning you back into - into an enzyme addict. The only thing I'm concentrating on is getting you healthy."
"But then what?"
"Then you'll be healthy," said Beckett, spreading his hands as though that was all that mattered. Maybe that was all that mattered to him.
"Healthy enough to get sent back to Earth," muttered Ford, slumping back against the pillows.
"Now, nobody's talking about sending you back to Earth -"
"They are," said Ford. "I heard them. Don't deny it, Doc."
"Look, son." Beckett's voice had softened. "Whatever happens, it's not my decision to make."
"Yes, it is. You can turn me back to what I was," said Ford urgently. "I don't want to be this way. I'm remembering what it was like to be stronger and more powerful than anything else, and I've got to be that way again."
"I can't do that."
"What's done is done, Lieutenant," said Sheppard, beside him, and Ford turned his head abruptly; when had he walked in?
"You can't send me back to Earth, Colonel!"
Beckett frowned. "What's that?"
"Tell him," said Ford, gesturing toward Sheppard, but Sheppard wasn't there anymore.
"You need to rest," said Beckett. He made some adjustments to the monitors, then looked back at Ford. "You're staying here for a few days. Then you can talk with Dr. Weir and Colonel Sheppard."
"All right, Doc." He closed his eyes and listened to Beckett walk out of the room.
"You've got a lot of issues to work out, Ford."
Ford opened his eyes again to see Sheppard standing over him, shaking his head.
"Don't send me back to Earth, sir. Please. I know it's going to be hard -"
"No, none of that," said Sheppard. "The mission's not over, remember? We've still got to figure a way to get out of here." He turned toward the double doors that led out to the balcony. "You hear me?"
"Yes, sir," whispered Ford. Now he got it. Nobody would work with him now, that's what Sheppard had said. He was no longer a superman. He was just a guy nobody trusted and nobody liked. They would send him back to Earth if he didn't take matters into his own hands.
Taking a deep breath, he disconnected the IV and turned to Sheppard. "Thank you for everything, sir."
"Aiden. You can make it through this."
"Yes, sir," Ford said. Striding to the doors, he opened them wide and stepped out onto the balcony. As he climbed up onto the rail he heard Beckett rush into the room, yelling something, but it didn't matter. When the Wraith grabbed him and pushed him over the edge, he closed his eyes.
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http://hieroglyfics.net/transfiguration.htm | written May 2006 by Isis