Stargate Atlantis A/U Fic: The Education of Little Bear (8/12)

[negolith2]

Title: The Education of Little Bear
Author: Negolith2
Rating: PG-13
Category: Alternate Universe
Word Count/This Chapter: 8400
Warnings: None, really, just some cussing, can't help it.
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, not for profit, blah blah blah copywrite cakes.

Summary: The sequel to 'Untamed'. Really. Since I've been sticking close to cannon, this is the simple story of how Dr. M. Rodney McKay, Ph.D., Ph.D., gets the Pretender gene. A chapter will be posted every Saturday, Tuesday, and Thursday.


Author's Note: And now the moment y'all been waiting for. Erm, except for Rodney, that is....

VIII: A Canadian Werebear In Atlantis

While John was taking the trays back, Rodney had a moment alone with Teyla. He leaned back against the couch and clasped his hands together. “So, um, you’re going to be there, right?”

Teyla nodded. “Yes, Rodney, I will.”

“And you’ve seen this all before?”

“I have.”

“I’m not going to, um, embarrass myself by, uh, you know....” He grimaced and turned a little red. “…Messing myself?” he finally said in a small voice.

“No, Rodney, you will not. But I would recommend changing out of those jeans and into some shorts or sweat pants. Your legs will most likely change, and you have seen John’s in his true form.”

Rodney nodded. “Yeah, they look pretty freaky. It’s scary how fast he can run like that.”

“It is impressive.”

Rodney suddenly stood up. “Well, I’m going to run back to my quarters and change. I’ll be right back.”

“I will be here.” Only after the door closed behind him did Teyla let her serene mask relax into a faint concerned frown. He was putting up a very good front, but she could feel the fear bubbling beneath. It wasn’t so pronounced when he and John were playing the video game, but through dinner she could feel it build. No doubt John did as well.

A couple minutes later John returned, and the first thing he did was freeze and glance around. “Where’s….”

“He went to change into looser clothing.”

“Oh. Was going to suggest that.” He was already in sweats and a t-shirt. He kicked the unlaced running shoes he’d slipped on to go to the mess and dropped down into his overstuffed chair, one leg draped over the arm, and rubbed his face. “I ran into Carson downstairs - suggested getting a big mess of sandwiches ready for after the Change.”

“Ah, that is a very good idea.”

John dropped his hand to his stomach. “Lorne and Ronon will be there for moral support.” He sighed heavily. “Gonna be a long night.”

“You felt him during dinner?” John nodded. “I will try to keep him calm during the actual change with some empathic redirection. That may help.”

John nodded, then his expression shifted to something … softer. “Thank you, Teyla, for being here for all of this. I mean it - I don’t think I could have handled this completely on my own. It’s good to have another … Pretender around for, well, support.”

Teyla lowered her eyes briefly. “And I must apologize to you, John. I overreacted the other day. When I heard ‘tests’ I immediately assumed the worst due to … prior experience here.” She met his gaze and caught the haunted shadow that briefly passed there. “When I saw how respectful Carson and Jennifer were treating you, and the explanations they gave me, I realized how wrong I was. I still have concerns about the confidentiality - but for my sharpness…. Forgive me.”

John grinned and nodded. “I forgive you.” Then he fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt. “So, um, was it the little flag, or the eyebrows?”

“Neither, really, though they were both adorable,” Teyla said. Her eyes lightened. “It was actually those little blue running shorts. They complimented your black fur quite nicely.” When John suddenly looked up, his ears starting to go red, she laughed softly. “I’m sure Jennifer will show you the pictures.”

John just slid down in his chair and groaned. “I didn’t see the camera this time. I thought I was safe.” He saw Teyla slowly shake her head. “Oh, man.”

There was a quick rap on the door and Rodney just came on in. He had changed to sweats but was still wearing a flannel shirt over a t-shirt. He stopped in the middle of the room and glanced back and forth between the two of them. “Okay, what did I miss?” he asked as he took his seat on the couch. Something had happened - he could see and smell it, and it was bringing a goofy grin to his face. Didn’t understand why, but it just did.

“I was just complimenting him on his running shorts from the other day.”

“Oh. I didn’t really pay much attention to those, but I did notice the excessive drooling. Am I going to be doing that? Or is it just a cat thing?”
“It was the mouth piece,” John replied. “It didn’t fit right, and my fangs punched through it.”

“Uh huh.” Rodney looked at Teyla and rolled his eyes.

“Keep it up and you’ll be drooling in a minute.”

“Oooo, you have me so scared.” And for just a second, his mask slipped and he truly did seem scared. But he managed to get it mostly back in place, and even though he could tell John and Teyla fully noticed, they kept their comments to themselves. He silently thanked them for that. He picked up the game controller from where he left it on the floor. “So, we have a few hours to kill.” He said it pretty casually, but his eyes were still a little too wide for the tone he used. “Think we can get through the next level?”

“Easily,” John said as he just oozed out of the chair. He stepped around Teyla and sat down. He suddenly glanced at her. “Um, would you like to try?”

“No, thank you. Watching you two is amusing enough as is.”

John grinned a little sheepishly and turned the game console back on.

“No shooting me in the back this time.”

“Well, no running in front of me then.”

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

Teyla was snickering at the last, narrow-eyed glance between the two before the game even finished booting up. And a couple hours later hadn’t quit. They really were boys. And at last count, they had shot each other’s characters six times each.

But a short time later she started to grow concerned. Rodney’s face was flushed and a fine sheen of sweat blanketed his face. She could sense some mild distress from him as well as that undercurrent of fear. John, have you noticed…?

Yeah, and his scent is way off. “Okay, break - I need to p… um, run to the bathroom.” He paused the game, then glanced casually at Rodney. “Hey, you feeling okay? You look a little green around the gills.”

“Not really,” Rodney said as he swiped at the sweat beading on his upper lip. “My stomach is … upset. Got any antacids?” He pulled his flannel shirt off and they could see sweat stains starting under his arms.

“Yeah, in the bathroom. I’ll grab ‘em.” As he got up he sent to Teyla, See if you can check him for a fever.

All right. This concerns me - moonrise is still over two hours away.

I know. John disappeared into the back.

“Can I get you some water?” Teyla asked.

“Um, okay.” Rodney wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his flannel, then just dropped it on the couch. Teyla got a bottle out of the fridge and handed it to him. He held it to his forehead before he opened it and drank a little.

Teyla put the back of her hand against his cheek, and he actually halfway smiled at her. “You are very warm.” She stretched her senses out and confirmed a fever starting.

“And you have very cool hands.” He sipped some more water and made a face, then covered his mouth to burp. “Oh, that was nasty,” he muttered.

John came back and set a bottle of antacid on the table. “Look at that - hadn’t even cracked the seal yet.”

Rodney put down the water, grabbed the antacid, opened it, and chugged straight from the bottle. And grimaced. “I hate the mint. Tastes too much like toothpaste.”

“I kind of like it,” John muttered.

A very low gurgle emerged from Rodney’s gut and made his eyes go wide. “Um, I’ll be right back.” He got to his feet and dashed to the bathroom.

John and Teyla looked at each other, and without a spoken or sent word followed.

When Rodney came out he saw Teyla sitting on the corner of the bed and John leaning against the wall by the door. He grimaced sheepishly and closed the door behind him. “You, ah, might want to avoid that room for a few.” He put a hand on his stomach, his grimace growing more pained. He was white, and the skin on his cheeks and around his eyes was livid. “I think things are settling now.”

Teyla stood and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Come, sit, rest.” Rodney’s head sort of bobbled her way, and his grimace eased a little.

John could feel her redirecting some of his unease away. He knew how well it could work on pain - he didn’t realize how effective it could be on fear, too. Well, she did call it empathic redirection…. He smiled at Teyla and sent a mental thank you. She briefly smiled back, and it was so kind for a second his smile dissolved into a goofy grin.

They went back to the front room and Rodney sat down in the big, overstuffed chair this time. Teyla handed him his water, and he took a few more sips. And belched again and reached for the antacid. “Oh, man,” he grumbled. He glared up at John. “Would you please sit down and quit hovering? You’re making me nervous.”

John plopped down on the couch. He noticed he didn’t tell Teyla to quit hovering. She was sitting on the arm of the chair, her hand resting lightly on the back of Rodney’s neck. She started to stand, but Rodney waved a hand. “No, no. You … you can stay. I don’t mind your hovering.”

John chuffed. “Yeah, now I see how you are.”

“You’re too hairy for my tastes. And she smells better.” Suddenly his eyes went wide, and he glanced up in horror at Teyla. “Um….”

Teyla laughed softly. “It is all right, Rodney. I understand.”

Rodney’s face actually got back to a normal color briefly as he put the water bottle to his lips and sunk down a little ways in the chair.
“You, ah, want to continue, or call it?” John asked. When Rodney waved he picked up his controller, saved the game, and shut everything down. They sat in silence for a few minutes. “Well, you’ve got color again. That’s a good sign.”

“Stomach feels better.” Rodney laughed weakly and sat the water and antacid back down on the table. “Must be nerves.”

“It could very well be,” Teyla said. She put a hand to his forehead. “But you do feel like you are feverish.”

“Is this normal?” When she paused, he moaned. “Oh crap, it isn’t, is it?”

“Please, Rodney, try to stay calm. Everything will be fine.”

“I wish everybody would quit saying that! How the hell do you know? You’ve never been through this, and he was born furry. So please, quit treating me like a ch….”

John felt it coming. So did Teyla. The big popcorn bowl was still under the table, and he kicked it Rodney’s way just as the physicist doubled over and vomited up dinner. The stream hit the side of the bowl and tipped it briefly. Some hit the carpet and the coffee table, but thankfully most of it went into the bowl. John immediately was on his feet. He grabbed the roll of paper towels on the microwave and tossed them to Teyla, then he was dashing back to the bathroom to get some wash cloths and hand towels. When he came back Rodney was still doubled over and was just in time for a second wave. He folded the cool cloth and put it on the back of Rodney’s neck. The warm one he handed to Rodney who immediately wiped his mouth.

“OhGodI’msosorry,” he managed to get out before the next wave hit. Teyla had wiped some of the mess up, then was cleaning her hands off and back by his side.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” John said as he attacked the mess with the sturdier towels. “I’ll just borrow a spot steamer from janitorial, and boom, good as new.”

“S’notwhatImeant.” On the next spasm mainly drool came out, and after a couple more it ended. Teyla handed him the water and he rinsed his mouth out. Then he flopped back in the chair, his face dripping sweat. “I hate puking.” He turned the washcloth inside out and wiped at his face. “And for your information, I was apologizing to God, because I obviously did something to piss off Him and every other pantheon that exists or is extinct to deserve this.”

John snorted. That Rodney was being snarky was a very good sign. “Think I can get rid of this now?” Rodney nodded weakly. “I’ll be quick, just in case. And, um, garbage can is right there.” He took it into the bathroom, dumped it, and rinsed it out as fast as he could. He was just in time to see Rodney dry-heaving into the washcloth when he returned. “Oh, man, that brings back memories.”

Rodney quit, and flopped back again. “At least you got to puke on your nemesis.” His voice sounded horrible. “Oh, wait, scratch that. Puking on my unknown nemesis is what started this entire hell/handbasket thing.” Then his eyes flew open. “Oh, crap. Bathroom. Outta the way.” He struggled to get out of the squishy chair, but less than a second later he was grabbed by the arms by both John and Teyla and hoisted to his feet like he didn’t weigh a thing. “Thanks,” he grated out before he shuffled off in a fast silly gait that proved he was clenching his cheeks pretty dang hard.

Under normal circumstances John would have found it comical. But not now. “We need to get him downstairs, pronto.”

“I agree.”

John grabbed his radio earpiece - it was sitting on the bookshelf by the couch - placed it, and tapped it. “Beckett, Keller - either one. Please respond.”

“Carson here.”

“We’re bringing Rodney down ASAP. Is everything ready?”

“It is. What’s wrong?”

“He’s feverish, and stuff’s coming out both ends. It’s got us both worried.”

“All right. Do yae need any help?”

“No, we can manage it. See you in a few. Sheppard out.” He glanced at Teyla. “He’s ready.”

Teyla closed her eyes briefly and nodded.

They met Rodney as he came out of the bathroom. “C’mon, pal. Carson’s got your suite all ready and is expecting us.”

“Good,” Rodney replied weakly. He had absolutely no color now. “I was going to suggest we head down now.” He didn’t even protest when John grabbed an arm and hoisted it over his shoulder. “Damn, what a waste of really good fried chicken.”

“When this is all over, I’ll ask Doris to fry you up a whole one. How’s that sound?”

“Really freakin’ horrible at the moment.”

Teyla led the way, and since she had her set of security passes in her pocket she just simply commandeered the first elevator. There were two people in it, and they looked a bit startled. “Medical emergency, please step out.” They did so without hesitation. One look at McKay, and they backed up even more. “Thank you,” Teyla said with a tight smile and keyed the elevator to take them to SL2. The second the door closed, Rodney had another bout of dry heaves. All he left on the floor was drool.

“Janitorial is so gonna hate me after this.” He was still doubled over and it felt like his insides no longer wanted anything to do with him and wished to secede that instant.

“Eh, if they have any problems, they can talk to me,” John said and bared his teeth briefly.

“I hope that sonuvabitch is roasting in hell right now,” Rodney panted out. The wave of agony passed, finally, and he was able to take some of his weight back onto his own two feet. He didn’t even realize John and Teyla were the only reason he was still upright. “If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him.”

The doors opened and Keller was waiting for them. She immediately had her hands on his forehead and neck. “My God - you’re burning up. Have you taken any Tylenol?”

Rodney let out a weak laugh. “Are you kidding? In the last twenty minutes I’ve puked and crapped out everything back to formula.”

Keller’s mouth clamped down on a bit of a grin. “Well, you’re still snarky - I take that as a good sign.”

“Wow, I do believe there’s an echo in here,” John said.

“Har har.” It came out as two pants.

The quarantine rooms were a short trip down the hall from the main elevators. Even then, Rodney was so glad he had help because his legs didn’t even feel like they were attached to the same body as the rest of him. And when they reached the outer door, they gave out entirely.

“Got him,” John said and just scooped him up. “You know, pal, this is getting to be a habit I really don’t want to continue. People are gonna talk.” Keller opened the door for them.

“You carried me before?” Rodney’s voice was rough and really weak. “When? I don’t remember.”

“At the airport, and you were out cold.”

“Oh.” Rodney held a very shaky hand to his forehead. “Wish I was out cold now.”

Carson was waiting for them outside of the first room on his right, and John’s pulse actually shot up a bit. “Gee, they gave you my old suite,” John said quietly as he shuffled on inside and set Rodney on the bed. “Good thing they redecorated.” He backed away quickly so Carson and Keller could have room.

“Well, Rodney - I’d say you’re looking a bit peaked, but I would be lying right now,” Carson said as he took his friend’s temperature. “One-oh-five point four.” He sighed. “Since your new temperature is one hundred, I’m not going to panic until it hits one-oh-seven.” He glanced at John and Teyla. “How long since onset?” he asked as he pulled on some gloves.

John, who had his arms crossed and was swiveling back and forth faintly, raised a hand and shrugged. “Maybe half an hour, tops.”

They were all distracted by Rodney curling up into a fetal position and groaning, then came the dry heaves.

Carson had a syringe ready. “Okay, Rodney - I have something for the nausea. You’ll be right as rain shortly.” While Rodney was still in that position, he quickly pulled down the back of his sweats and boxers to just expose the top of a pale cheek, swabbed, and that was that.
Rodney jumped faintly. “I can never understand why something for nausea has to go there. Not. Logical. At all.” He stayed curled up, shivering.

Carson chuckled as he pulled everything up, then he and Keller covered him with a blanket. A moment later Keller was holding a small cup to Rodney’s lips. “I need you to drink this, Rodney. It’s just liquid Tylenol for your fever.”

Rodney lifted his head enough to down it. “Gah. Tastes like Kool-Aid from hell.” He settled back down and drew the blanket up around his neck. “God I’m cold. Couldn’t you have warmed this up first? Better yet - I want the good stuff. I want to be fully anesthetized and on morphine. The sooner the better.”

John glanced at his watch, then at Teyla. Still over an hour and a half to moonrise. This is not good.

Perhaps we should have Carson sedate him.

You read my mind. John grinned down at Teyla, but she just looked up at him, one eyebrow faintly cocked. He rubbed his nose and shrugged sheepishly. I know. I know. Bad telepath joke.

Older than the pyramids joke.

Carson and Keller set Rodney up on an i.v. drip to keep him hydrated, attached various leads to monitors, and took vitals. They worked quickly and efficiently, and the only conversation in the room were soft reassurances to Rodney. After Carson took his blood pressure, he placed a hand on his arm and said, “I want to administer a mild sedative - your blood pressure is a bit too high for my liking right now. Are you keen on that?”

“I’d be more keen on full unconsciousness, but hey - I’ll take it.”

Carson snorted softly as he picked up another prepared syringe and slowly injected it into the i.v. port. He kept his eyes on the monitor above Rodney’s head, and within a few minutes those numbers slowly began to drop. So did Rodney’s eyelids, and it wasn’t long before he was Pink Floyding. “All right. Get some blood samples and send them up to the lab right away. I’m going to want a full comparison between before and after the Change.”

“Okie dokie,” Keller replied.

Carson took a moment to make sure Rodney was tucked in all safe and sound, scribbled a few notes, then finally joined John and Teyla over by the door. “His blood pressure had me scared - it’s high enough as is, and I don’t want him to blow a gasket with this, this thing.” He ran both hands down his face.

John peeked around Carson - Rodney was face-planted into the pillow now, his mouth partly open. “I was gonna say, that was a bit more than just a ‘mild sedative’ there.”

“And if he has a metabolism anywhere close to yours now, it won’t last very long.” Carson gestured for them to move out into the hallway. Several tables were set up, and one had a couple thermoses from the cafeteria and an assortment of teas as well as the appropriate condiments. Just as Carson opened his mouth the outer doors to the quarantine area opened and Lorne and Ronon ambled in. Lorne headed straight for the coffee.

“Heard the call over the network,” Lorne said as he poured a cup. “Figured we’d come early just in case.”

“How is he?” Ronon simply asked.

“Cranky, puking, snarky, and scared shitless,” John replied. “Basically what we expected, except for the puking part.”

“Tell me everything that happened,” Carson said and crossed his arms. John and Teyla did, and it only took two minutes, tops. After they finished they all turned and watched Keller take the last of the blood samples and tuck Rodney’s arm back under the blanket. She came out and smiled faintly at everyone as she headed to the end of the hall. There was a small lab/office there, which John had never noticed before, and she quickly labeled the samples and sent them upstairs in a contraption that looked like a mega-padded version of a bank drive-through canister. She took a moment to type in some instructions, then came out and joined everyone.

“Sleeping like a baby,” she said.

“Good. Good.” Carson ran a hand through his hair. “Now, I guess we wait.”

-oOo-

A half an hour before moonrise, Rodney woke up screaming. His voice was already raw from the dry heaves earlier, so when the first ragged scream tore through the room he sounded like he was being flayed alive. Keller was present at that moment, checking the i.v. bag, and it wrenched a short, startled shriek out of her.

Rodney started to kick and flail at the blanket wrapped around him. His skin was livid, and in a manner of seconds sweat was running freely down his face. “Get them off! Oh God, get them off of me!” Hands hooked into claws, he started digging at his skin.

People rushed in from the hall as Keller tried to grab his hands. “Shh. Shh. It’s all right, Rodney. We’re right here. Please, calm down. It’s all right.” She managed to capture one wrist, and was almost knocked across the room.

Then John was right there on the other side of the bed. He caught Rodney’s wrists, and the muscles stood out in his own forearms as he stilled them - they already agreed there would be no actual restraints. All they’d do was get Rodney hurt and just possibly make him freak out even more. “Oh, hey there, buddy. It’s okay. Take her easy - you about knocked the tiny doctor ass over teakettle.” He glanced to the left and saw Ronon and Teyla had his legs and Carson helping Keller up.

Another raw scream welled up from Rodney, and his back arched off the bed. “Make them stop! Carson, Sheppard - make them stop! Please!” The last word dragged out until he ran out of breath.

“Stop what, Rodney?” Carson asked soothingly as his eyes danced over the various monitors.

Rodney drew in a deep breath that shook his entire body. “The worms. Digging, digging, burning up, digging.” His entire body heaved upward, and John had to lean into it just to keep him on the bed and from trying to rip his skin open. Rodney let out another bellow and writhed.

Carson picked up a syringe and pulled the cap off with his teeth. John glanced at him. “More sedative?”

“Morphine.” Through some miracle the port was still attached to Rodney’s hand and he injected the drug.

Rodney continued to twist and squirm, and if anything, it felt like he was getting stronger instead of weaker. “Teyla?” He glanced her way and saw her eyes were shining like polished copper.

“I am trying to redirect.” Her face was shiny with a fine sheen of sweat. “But the fear and pain are … difficult to separate at the moment.”
John looked down at Rodney. He could smell the adrenaline, the fear, and sense the animal at war within the man, and something responded deep in his own mind. He leaned all his weight on Rodney’s wrists and opened his hands up, fingers splayed, and out of pure instinct Changed. He dug his claws deep into the mattress and locked Rodney’s wrists in place.

Then he got right in the man’s face, noses merely inches apart.

“Listen to me, McKay! Get. A. Goddamned. Grip!” Everyone in the room flinched at the tone of his voice. Rodney’s eyes got impossibly wide, his pupils dilated, and John hoped enough of the bear in him would react to the good old vargyr alpha pheromones that were surely pouring off of him at the moment. He heard the heart monitor shoot up, then alarms went off. He leaned in closer. “Are you listening to me?” His voice was low, but it had an edge to it that made Carson and Keller take a step back.

Rodney was shaking his head, tears mingling with the sweat now. “Oh, God. Kill me, Sheppard. I can’t do this. Kill me, please, killmekillmenowPLEASEKILLMENOW.”

“Sheppard,” Carson said in warning as he hesitantly took a step towards them.

Rodney’s pupils contracted briefly, his words trailed off, and his heart beat began to slow.

“I have his pain,” Teyla said. “The morphine is helping me redirect it.”

John stared deep into Rodney’s eyes, and for a second he swore he could sense the shadow of the bear within the physicist sizing him up, a huge dark shape just at the edge of his peripherals that made the fur from the crown of his head to the small of his back stand on end. It was a strong spirit, this one. But he could be a nasty sonuvabitch when he needed to be, and he focused on that with all his mind. He cocked his head, laid his whiskers flat, and bared his teeth. “Listen up, you pushy bastard.” His voice was very low and almost pure jaguar growl. “Back the fuck off - your time is coming. Until then, leave my friend alone.” He saw something click in Rodney’s eyes, and a second later he went limp. John kept his grip for a moment, just to be sure, then backed away and let go.

“What the bloidy hell….”

John backed up against the wall, his pulse pounding in his temples. He was thinking pretty much along those lines himself at the moment. He rubbed his mouth, then glanced over at Teyla. She was staring at him, her mouth faintly open in pure amazement, and for some reason that made him really really nervous.

“What just happened there?” Keller asked. She had a cloth and was wiping the sweat from Rodney’s face. “Because, seriously, that was like X Files cool.”

“Um,” John said. “I, uh, went alpha?” But it was more than that, he thought as he was looking at Teyla, his own eyes wide. “Seemed like the thing to do?” His voice cracked at the end of that statement.

Teyla blinked. That normally works only after the cursed has changed and the animal has asserted … control over the host.

Yeah, I thought so, too - but I could sense it, Teyla. I could feel it in him.

Carson interrupted their unspoken conversation. “Whatever you did, it helped.” Rodney was blinking blearily up at everyone. “Rodney? Can you hear me?”

Rodney swallowed and shook his head. “I can’t do this, Cars’n. Hurts, skin hurts. Can’t do this.”

“I can help you, Rodney.” Teyla passed between John and the bed and stood by Rodney’s head. “We will get you through this. All of us.” She rested her hand on his hot forehead and gently started stroking the spot between his eyebrows.

Rodney actually smiled faintly. “S’nice.” John started to back away, but Rodney reached out. “No, no - don’t go. I think it’s ‘fraid of you.” His words were getting slurry and hard to understand.

John stepped up next to Teyla, and she smiled at him. “No going anywhere, buddy,” he said, then awkwardly patted Rodney’s hand.

“Good.” Rodney just seemed to sink into the mattress. “I love morphine.”

The next few minutes were conversation free as Carson and Keller checked Rodney’s vitals - his fever was holding steady at one-oh-six point three - and jotted notes. Every once in awhile Rodney would tense up and moan, but there was no more screaming or writhing like earlier.

Lorne popped in and glanced around in alarm at everyone. “I, ah, brought the goodie tray down.” He stepped in closer. “Hey, doc, no offense - but you look like crap.”

“Bet I’ll look worse later,” Rodney sing-songed.

Lorne looked at Carson. “Pink Floyding?”

Carson’s dimples showed when he nodded.

“Ah. We’ll be just outside if you need us.” Lorne motioned to Ronon and they left the room, but not after Ronon gave Rodney’s foot a squeeze.

Keller left a moment later to see if the first blood samples were back from the main lab.

“Say, can I hire you to do this all the time?” Rodney asked Teyla. “Because, really, it feel s’absolutely wonderful.”

“I’m sorry, Rodney, but no.”

“Aww, c’mon.” Suddenly his eyes went wide, and his entire body curled in short a spasm. “Ow.”

John’s watch alarm went off. He quickly shut it down. “Two minute warning, people.”

“Crap.” Carson started to remove the i.v. - they agreed earlier that it would be best so Rodney couldn’t hurt himself. The heart monitor would stay since the pads would most likely just come off on their own. He’d learned in the past how poorly they stuck to John’s fur when he Changed. “Rodney, Jennifer and I will be right outside.”

“No no no no no.” He grabbed Carson’s jacket. “Don’t wanna be alone.”

“Teyla and I will be here,” John said. “You won’t be alone.”

Another convulsion wracked Rodney. “Oh, God,” he moaned.

“Better beat it, doc,” John said as he and Teyla traded places. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked into Carson’s tired eyes.

“Take care of him,” he said.

“I will. You have my word.”

Carson nodded and left. A moment later the door closed and locked.

Teyla shuffled around the bed and returned her hand to Rodney’s forehead. “I can channel the pain or the fear, but not both.”

“Settle on the fear - I think that will help more.” John was holding Rodney down as gently as he could by his shoulders. “C’mon, pal - you can do this. Hang on.”

Rodney replied with a cry of pain that came from his toes and made him arch off the bed.

“We are here, Rodney.” Teyla’s voice was calm, soothing.

They continued to offer reassurances until John looked at Teyla. “It’s about here.” She nodded and backed away until she was by the door.
Rodney suddenly went very still, his eyes and mouth open as wide as they could possibly go. John felt the muscles under his touch squirm like dozens of tiny snakes were burrowing under the skin just as his friend took in a deep breath.

Rodney screamed as if his very soul was being torn from his body.

-oOo-

He was in hell.

Previously Rodney’s concept of hell was being stuck teaching Intro to Physics in a community college for all of eternity, and his students were the vapid little twits from Beverly Hills 90210. Now he had a new definition of hell, and it involved billions of microscopic lava worms chewing their way through every nerve in his body, spasms that tried to rip the muscles clean off his bones, and glass shards and ice coursing through his veins. The morphine helped some, but whatever Teyla was doing helped even more. But still, it was hell, had more than enough, and he wanted it over and done with, thank you very much.

For just a second he got his wish and everything just … stopped. The relief shocked the hell out of him, and for that single razor sharp moment he was sure he was floating a good three feet off the bed.

Then he felt something large and dark and powerful ooze into his skin with him and the pain slammed him back down out of his brief euphoria. Before was bad - now he was sure he was being torn apart at the subatomic level and being reassembled by a dozen chimpanzees equipped with blow torches and hammers. Roaring filled his head, he could not see, and the scents he picked up told him had to get out, get away, because there was threatdangerfightrunnownowNOW. Something had him trapped and he flailed and kicked and fought until he was free. He still could only hear roaring, and as he staggered around trying to find the exit - it was here, he knew it, where was it, damn it, I need out NOW - something heavy landed on him. He fought, he struggled, and dislodged it. Door, where was the fucking door?

The weight landed on his back, and this time it dragged him down to the floor. He was begging, pleading to be set free, but all he could hear was that damn roaring. His left shoulder and neck really started to hurt, there was a tight pressure around his gut that was making it hard to breathe, and when he tried to cry out something clamped down over his mouth. The roaring did back off, and a second later he felt a cool touch on his forehead at the same time he heard a voice cut through everything like a thirty megaton explosion.

“Damn it, Rodney. Use … your … fucking … brain!”

The muffled roaring stopped completely.

“I thought you were a genius, McKay. Or is that only on paper?”

Rodney stiffened at the contemptuous tone and tried to say, “Now wait one damn minute.” All that came out was a grunt, and a second later he could hear … singing? But not out loud. It was in the back of his head, and really quite … soothing.

“Do we have your attention now?”

Okay, that was Sheppard, but why was his voice so growly, and close? It sounded like it was right in his…. There was a short sharp pain in his ear and he jumped and whimpered, because damn, that hurt.

“Hey, you in there?”

Rodney nodded his head as much as he could. He finally realized he had his eyes scrunched shut as tight as they could go, and he slowly cracked them open. His vision was still black but oddly … fuzzy. He had a moment of panic before he realized what he was seeing was fur. Black fur. Because Sheppard had his hand wrapped tightly around his….

Muzzle?

“I’m going to let go now, Rodney. You with me, buddy?”

Rodney nodded again. He expected the hand to be taken away, but what he felt first was the pressure around his stomach easing. What the hell was wrapped around him? Then came the weight off his back, and as the painful hold around his shoulder and neck eased, so, too, did the grip around his, oh jeez, muzzle. He got a very good look at John’s claws, claws so sharp the tips were practically crystal clear, as the hand, paw, whatever, lifted away. As soon as he was free, he sat up and scooted backwards across the floor on his butt until his back fetched up against something. Judging from the deep melodious tone it was the glass wall that looked out into the hallway.

Details slowly started to sink in. The hospital bed was on its side, as well as some of the monitors, and John and Teyla were sitting right in front of it. John was balanced on his long feet, sitting basically on his calves, and Teyla was kneeling next to him. Both had completely amazed expressions on their faces, and in John’s case his whiskers were hanging limply.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” Rodney said. Well, that’s what he tried to say, but what came out was really rough - sounded like he was a barfly who smoked five packs a day and had just had a tonsillectomy - and oddly muffled as if he was back in braces and a retainer.

“Holy shit!” John exclaimed and fell back on his ass.

Teyla’s hand came up to her chest. “Rodney? You can … talk.” Her voice was practically a whisper.

“Oh course I can talk.” It came out garbled, but a little clearer and a lot more understandable. “What do you expect? I’m….” His words trailed off and his eyes got really wide. “Holy shit! I can talk!” His hands came up and he wiggled his fingers and grinned crookedly. “I’m not supposed to.”

John was grinning just as lopsidedly. “Cool!”

Then Rodney was distracted by his hands. He held them up and stared in amazement. They were broader than before, his palms now light brown with pink freckles, and his fingers were tipped with claws easily two inches long. They weren’t sharp or retractable like Sheppard’s, but they looked like they could do some serious damage. He turned his hands this way and that - the backs and his forearms were covered with thick, glossy russet fur that had gold highlights that shimmered in the overheads.

“Wow,” Rodney said softly, and the word was perfectly clear.

“You are … incredible,” Teyla said. She rolled back onto her feet and moved in closer. She settled down next to him, and a moment later she put her hand on his cheek and turned his face towards her. Her expression was still awed, but also mildly disconcerted. “Rodney, do not take this wrong, but I don’t think you are a ….” She shook her head. “You do not look like any Ursus I’ve ever seen, true born or cursed.”

“Have to agree with her, Rodney,” John said. He was till just sitting there, one leg up, one splayed, and leaning back with a hand braced behind him and the other arm wrapped around his ribs. He had some pretty big tears in his t-shirt and one down his left thigh. He shook his head. “You smell like a bear, but …. Man, you sure as hell don’t look like one.”

Rodney glanced back and forth between them, and shot to his feet. It shocked him how fast he did it, and he just stood there a second, blinked, then ran for the mirror over the sink. “Holy shit!”

The face that stared back at him still had his bright blue eyes, and the raised eyebrows were clear in the fur, kind of like a dog’s eyebrows. Hell, his mouth still had the downward slope to the left, but now it was set in a blunt wide muzzle tipped by a - oh dear God - very brown bear nose. He leaned in closer. There were a few pink freckles where the fur met his now wiggly nose. He held his hands to his muzzle to keep it from wiggling even more. They were right - he looked more like a cross between a grizzly and a, well, gorilla. His ears were rounder, smaller, and seemed to sit up higher on his head now. He turned around and stared at the only other occupants in the room, and they were staring right back at him. He lowered his hands and looked down. Now Rodney knew he was built rather stoutly - hell, it took a lot of strength to lug or repair some of the equipment he used around the lab - but now he was a freaking block. His shoulders and chest were so deep and broad and - oh man - thick with muscle now he’d split the seams of his shirt. Just the collar, one very tight sleeve, and the bottom hem were all that he was wearing while the rest hung in tatters. At least he was still in the sweats.

He did a double take.

“Oh, hell no. My, my arms are longer than my legs! Oh, that is so not right.” It was getting easier for him to speak around his muzzle and fangs now, and the despair in his voice was clear to everyone.

“Oh, quit your belly aching,” John said. “At least your feet aren’t as long as your shins.” For emphasis, he held up one foot, spread his paw-like toes as wide as they would go, and waggled it back and forth a few times.

Rodney just started at him for a second or two and blinked. Then he let out an explosive and very amused bear-like snort. “Yeah, those are pretty damn freaky looking, now that you mention it.”

Teyla even hid a giggle behind her hand, especially when John wiggled his cat toes at them.

They all heard the lock disengage and a second later Carson poked his head in. “I take it it’s safe now?”

“Carson!” John shouted in warning.

“Of course it’s safe,” Rodney said, and his tone was pure agitated Rodney. “What did you expect, me rampaging around and ripping arms off like an enraged Wookie ….” His words trailed off, his eyes got huge, and his new bearish nose was practically twitching off his face as his sense of smell announced to the rest of his animal brain and body that there was FOOD!

Carson proved he could move pretty damn fast when he needed to because he managed to not get bowled over by Rodney as he barreled out the door.

John and Teyla popped to their feet immediately and followed. They didn’t need to worry - Rodney had found the huge gray plastic tub full of sandwiches. He was sitting on the floor, the tub in between his stubby legs, and he was shoving the things in as fast as he could chew and swallow. But John still glared at Carson. “Damn it - I told you not to open that door until we gave the all clear.”

“Everything seemed all right,” Carson replied.

John could feel the fear and concern coming of the man in overpowering wave. He softened his expression. “Sorry.”

“He’s just being overprotective,” Teyla said and gave Carson a small, somewhat sheepish smile. Carson swallowed and nodded in understanding.

Lorne and Keller watched Rodney’s feeding frenzy in fascinated horror, but Ronon just stood there, arms crossed, and grinned. “Hey, Sheppard, are you sure he isn’t a wereshark?”

“I’m sure,” John said as he cautiously approached then crouched next to his friend. He kept his right arm pressed tight against his stomach. “Hey, Rodney - slow up. I don’t know how easy it is to give the Heimlich to a bear.”

Rodney had his head thrown back in pure bliss, a sandwich in each hand, crumbs stuck in the fur around his mouth. “Oh, God. I never knew peanut butter and honey could be so, so, so….” He just ended the sentence in a moan that was dang near pornographic.

“Okay, I really didn’t need to hear that in association with peanut butter,” Keller said. She had a hand over her mouth, but her dimples were showing.

“Rodney, how are you feeling?” Carson asked cautiously.

“Eating here,” Rodney mumbled around a mouthful.

“I think you’re s.o.l. for a few, doc,” Lorne replied with a grin of his own.

John noticed the Major’s hand was behind his back, but he relaxed and returned his hand to his side a moment later and it made him wonder what the man had stashed in the waistband of his pants behind the loose tail of his shirt. He glanced at Ronon and saw he had his shirt untucked as well. Lorne noticed the scrutiny, and when John raised an eyebrow at him, he merely grimaced and shrugged. John chuffed softly.

Rodney’s hand dove back into the tub, and the new sandwich stopped about eight inches from his mouth. “Huh. This one must be for you.” He held it to John. “Tuna.”

John took it. “Thanks, Yogi.” He gladly took a big bite out of it.

Rodney waved a paw. “Anytime, Snagglepuss.”

There were three layers of sandwiches in the tub - by the time Rodney finally quit there was less than half a layer. As he licked honey from his fingers - and it was funny to watch because one, it was Rodney, and two, he had a long flexible bear tongue now - he was humming rather contentedly.

John snagged the tub and sat it back on the table while Rodney was occupied. He hissed a little in discomfort as his back and side gave a twinge. He snagged another half of a tuna sandwich for himself, and as he backed away he saw Carson and Keller watching him in concern. “What?” he asked before he took a bite.

“You are aware you are bleeding?” Carson said.

“Yeah.” John glanced down, then lifted his left arm up enough the check his side. He saw several drops on the floor, and only then did he finally pull his right arm away from his soaked t-shirt. He looked at the underside of his right arm and saw the matted fur around four sizeable gashes. “Man, didn’t feel that bad.”

“There are some on your back, too,” Teyla added.

“Come with me,” Keller said and tugged his t-shirt sleeve. She started to lead him to the office in the back.

Rodney suddenly shot to his feet, and everyone, including Ronon, reacted. “Um, did … did I hurt you?” he asked worriedly.

“Just a few scratches. No biggie.” John shoved the last of the sandwich in his mouth and waved him off. Rodney started to come around the table. “No!” Everyone flinched at John’s tone, and Rodney actually backed up several steps. “Sorry, but I don’t know how your new tenant will react to blood now that things have … calmed down.”

Rodney lifted his head and sniffed the air. And grimaced. Then he glanced down and noticed he had smeared some drops as he walked through them. He did a funny, foot raised hop backwards. “Oh, crap.” His grimace - crooked and so very Rodney - got worse as he shook his now broadened and clawed foot. “Well, I’m still reacting the same.”

Everyone heard John’s sigh of relief.

Teyla wrapped her arm around Rodney’s. He wasn’t much taller than her now, but he still dwarfed her tiny frame. “Come help me set the bed and equipment back up.”

Rodney looked at her. “Um, okay.” He let her lead him back into the room, but not without one more guilty glance towards Sheppard.

End Note: "I see a bad moon rising. I see trouble on the way." 'Specially since there may be a delay in posting the next chapter - I srsly need to finish my Christmas shopping. (ducks and runs)

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