Dumbstruck - part 2
Dumbstruck part 1 is here.
Dumbstruck
Part Two
John waited patiently while Teyla and Ronon appeared to be arguing again. Well, not arguing per se so much as disagreeing what to do with him next. The urge to step in and make a decision for them was strong, but he let it simmer in the background. He had no idea where they were going or what they were proposing anyway. The conflict now was over Ronon’s plan to take him to something called the armory. John relaxed against a wall and watched the by-play between the two people who had served as his guides all afternoon.
They’d appeared in the infirmary that afternoon, Teyla looking like an exotic dancer in a stitched leather bodice affair that showed off her taut abdomen and emphasized her dancer’s grace when she moved. She seemed completely unaware of her innate hotness. Ronon looked dangerous, a sleeveless shirt showing off impressive muscles and bronzed skin decorated with tattoos. He had his dreds tied back behind his head; his bearded face was clean and looked less threatening than it had on the planet, but John could sense the underlying lethality of the man that was never far from the surface. It had made him wonder just what kind of relationship he had with these people and why they seemed to be so concerned about him.
That the doctors were concerned about his physical condition, he knew. Despite what the blue-eyed man named Carson thought, John’s hearing was pretty good and he knew that both Carson and the pretty little girl named Jennifer thought that he was brain damaged. He recalled that Rodney thought he was brain damaged too but that this seemed to be a normal state as far as Rodney was concerned, so John recognized it as the friendly insult that it was. He didn’t feel brain damaged. Maybe that was one of the symptoms. All he knew was that he could not access certain information. Since there seemed to be little he could do about that, he’d opted for absorbing as much new information as he could.
Which was why he’d been relieved when Ronon and Teyla apparently wanted to spring him from the infirmary. Yes. He was tired of being poked and prodded and having sympathetic looks shot in his direction. It had precipitated a first argument however. Ronon was all for just leaving, Teyla for informing the doctors and asking for permission to take John with them. They’d gone back and forth on the subject for a moment, before John had swung his feet off the bed where he’d been sitting and walked over to the two of them-taking each one by the hand and indicating the door with their clasped fists together.
Teyla had taken a sharp intake of breath and then beamed at him. Ronon had looked at him seriously for a long moment, an expression of intense pain crossing his face like the effects of the stunner blast and then he’d suddenly pulled John into a crushing embrace, lifting him slightly off the ground, his other arm pulled backwards, still in Teyla’s grip. He’d made some gurgling noises and Ronon had abruptly let him go.
John had felt his eyebrow raise and his face twist as he’d looked at Ronon askance.
Ronon had let out a hearty laugh and clapped him on the shoulder with enough force that Teyla had to hold him up.
“Fine,” Ronon had conceded, “I’ll go tell the doc we’re taking Sheppard out for a little air.”
“Do you think you might confuse John by calling him ‘Sheppard’?” Teyla had suggested in her calm way.
“Calling him John when I never call him John would confuse him more. He’s not stupid, Teyla, just…scrambled.”
“I never said he was…oh, that man,” Teyla had groused in the general direction of Ronon’s back as he’d crossed the infirmary for Carson’s office. “Sometimes I think he needs a good…what is your word? Walloping.” She'd looked at John suddenly and seemed to see something in his face, because her exasperated expression had faded and one of sweet concern had appeared in its place. “Don’t mind Ronon. He had a very hard existence before coming to Atlantis and joining your team. He is one of a handful of survivors of his people and I think we’ve become like a family to him. You are a very important part of that family, John.”
John had reached out and gently brushed the side of her face with his fingers. Teyla had blinked at him, her mouth trembling, as though she might start to cry. “Yes,” she’d said with a watery smile, “You are part of my family as well.”
She’d then taken him by the forearms and had tipped her head forward, as though bowing. She’d glanced up through her bangs at him and he’d suddenly realized he was supposed to bow back, coming forward himself until their foreheads brushed. He’d felt the small sigh she released at the gesture and was warmed by the smile he’d received on straightening again.
Family. He had family. Family seemed very important. Worth living for. Worth dying for. In his head though, he could not distinguish between the words family and team.
He’d wanted to ask where Rodney was, but had no way to convey that information. They’d instead taken him all over the city-on the balconies, where they stood looking down at the sea and feeling the warmth of the sun on their skin. To the gateroom and Elizabeth’s office, where the slim, dark-haired woman in red and black had given him another one of those brittle smiles and he'd thought family, but recognized an enforced distance and did not know why it was there. He’d been in transporters and on the pier, down to the jumper bays and now was waiting for Ronon and Teyla to agree on where to take him next. He inspected his clothing while he listened to the argument, a tight black shirt with short sleeves, black pants, black boots. The clothing had been waiting for him after the last of his examinations in the infirmary. The watch he’d placed instinctively on the left wrist-he’d noted that the numbers within kept changing but did not know what that meant. The black fuzzy band he’d placed on his right wrist, frowning at it now as he wondered about its significance.
The wall behind him felt warm against his skin, like the sun on his face on the balcony, and it whispered to him of family and home.
“I hardly think Elizabeth would appreciate it if we taught John how to shoot,” Teyla said somewhat sharply, and John gave the conversation his full attention again.
“He knows how to shoot on some level,” Ronon countered. “This is about making sure he’s safe around weapons-that he hasn’t forgotten anything vital. Besides, shooting comes naturally to him, it’s a memory we should try to trigger.” Ronon grinned in a feral manner at Teyla for some reason and she rolled her eyes in response.
Teyla looked unconvinced, but Ronon continued on. “What’s the first thing we teach our children?” he asked in a serious voice. “Fear the Wraith. Avoid their culling beams. Don’t let them touch you. And as soon as we can, we teach them how to fire a weapon, to defend themselves. This is the world we live in, Teyla, not the world the Earthers know.” He paused, glancing at John before turning back to Teyla again. “Taking me to the armory was one of the first things Sheppard did when I came here. It wasn’t just about checking me out on the weapons. It was about trust.”
“Very well,” Teyla relented. “The two of you boys can go play in the armory while I set up the next experience. Meet me in the mess hall in one hour.” Teyla glanced at the watch on her wrist as she spoke and John found himself doing the same, but it still didn’t make any sense to him. She caught him doing so and she smiled.
She took him gently by the wrist and rotated his arm so they could both see the surface of the watch. “An hour is a unit of time. Your home planet has 24 hours in a day.” He nodded at the word day; that he understood. “These little numbers here count seconds-60 seconds in one minute. These numbers here count minutes. 60 minutes in one hour. This number here, changes on the hour.”
“You think he’s actually going to follow that?” Ronon said skeptically, but John was nodding enthusiastically and tapping the surface of the watch. 3600 seconds in an hour. 86,400 seconds in a day. The beauty of the math pleased him. He looked up to see Teyla smiling at him with bright eyes.
“Go play with your toys,” she said. “I will see about getting us some food.”
John’s stomach growled at her words and everyone laughed.
****
The armory had been great fun. Ronon had taken him into the secure facility and over to a table where a wide variety of weapons were displayed. He’d then gone through an explanation of safe use and handling, explaining the basics of gun safety before letting John pick up any of the weapons. Once he was satisfied that John was not going to accidentally kill someone, he’d hesitated over a set of ear muffs; John had gotten the impression that Ronon normally wouldn’t wear them but didn’t want to set a bad example as Ronon had put on a pair and indicated that John do the same. “So you won’t be deaf in your rapidly advancing age, old man,” Ronon had said jokingly.
Ear protectors. John had realized it as soon as the sound dampened around him and had grinned when the shooting began.
The weapons had felt natural and right in his hands; he’d recognized right away that the calluses formed previously were from a lifetime of holding such guns. He’d felt excited in a way that only sitting in the jumper had made him feel before-this was it, this was right, he was getting closer to who he really was. The shooting went on for some time; Ronon had even let him fire Ronon’s energy pistol. John had gotten the feeling that was a great honor and he’d let his enthusiasm show on his face.
Just when he’d thought the session was coming to a close, Ronon pressed a switch under the table and a new target wheeled into sight-stopping at the shooting distance. Unlike the faceless paper targets from before, the figure was a detailed simulation of a person, but a person unlike one John could ever recall seeing before. The figure was dressed in a sweeping black coat, with long white hair and a pale, greenish complexion, mouth open in a snarl, fangs showing. A single hand was depicted reaching forward but there was no weapon in it.
John had looked at Ronon for an explanation. “This is a Wraith,” he’d spat, the hatred rippling in his low growl. “The only good Wraith is a dead Wraith. You see one, you shoot it, before it kills you. They are hard to kill, so shoot it a lot. Understand?”
John had lifted the Beretta he’d been holding and emptied the clip into the center of the target, creating a large hole in the paper Wraith.
“Cool,” Ronon had grinned.
That was the word John had been searching for. Cool.
Now they were sitting in a large, open room, filled with tables and chairs where people apparently came to eat as a group in this community. Sunlight poured in from great, patterned windows on one wall, the room also opened out onto a large balcony and the smell of the sea came in through the open doors, along with the faint cries of some small flying creatures that Teyla had identified as birds. The room was mostly empty now; the time for regular meals apparently long since over. It made the fact that food was still available all the more remarkable.
They were making their way steadily through a huge platter of turkey sandwiches, along with chips and salsa. Ronon had over-ruled Teyla’s protest and produced a cold beer with an evil grin, but he’d agreed that John should only have one. It was without a doubt the best food that John had ever eaten and he’d eaten with enthusiasm, belching loudly as he pushed his nearly empty tray back.
Ronon and Teyla both laughed.
“Your people believe you should say ‘excuse me’ when you burp in public, John,” Teyla said with a small giggle.
“Don’t make a sissy out of him,” Ronon complained. “He’s free of all those stupid Earth rules now. He should be able to belch, fart or scratch his balls if he wants to now.”
Ronon leaned back in his chair and scratched idly at his armpit, grinning at John all the while. John snickered and shot a glance at Teyla, who was looking thoughtful.
“Not all stupid Earth rules. There are some he should still obey.” Whatever Teyla meant by that, Ronon seemed to get it. He stopped scratching and sat up abruptly, leaning forward to rest his arms along the table in front of him.
“You think he remembers that? That he and McKay…?”
Teyla shrugged elegantly. “I doubt it. We’re not even supposed to know about it,” she raised an eyebrow at Ronon. “I’m just saying it would be awkward for everyone if he suddenly displayed…a disregard for certain rules.”
A thoughtful silence descended on the table for a moment. “Well, he’s being pretty touchy-feely right now, for him. I’m betting we can get away with calling it the effects of the device if something happens.”
Teyla nodded. “Particularly if we make it known, that John is…more openly affectionate than usual.”
John tapped the tabletop and made a ‘hello, sitting right here’ gesture with his hand when they both looked at him.
“I kinda like him like this. It’s kinda peaceful, you know?” Ronon grinned at him, even while ostensibly speaking to Teyla. “Who knows, maybe someone will listen to us on a mission for a change?”
“There will be no more missions with John unless we figure out how to restore his memories, Ronon,” Teyla said, a note of concern and sadness creeping into her lovely voice. “They might not even let him remain in Atlantis.”
John felt the city tremble with the impact of Teyla’s words.
“Why would they send him back to Earth? It’s not like they’re any better equipped to deal with his problems than we are.”
Teyla just shook her head, her coppery hair brushing her shoulders with the movement. “He’s military. He will have to follow their orders-if they choose to send him back to Earth, Elizabeth will have no choice but to send him. And they will assign someone else to his position here.”
“Someone who won’t trust us,” Ronon growled and then sighed. “McKay will have a cow.”
The image of a large black and white bovine creature calmly chewing its cud sprang to mind, but John had no idea why Rodney would want one.
You must stay. We need you. John looked up at the ceiling of the room trying to figure out exactly where the words were coming from. Stay, the city pleaded. We need you.
A small woman burdened with a tray of food walked past their table. She had long, dark hair swept up into a bun and on her face wore heavy, black goggles…no, glasses. She gave them a weak smile in passing and Teyla called out. “Miko, would you care to join us?”
“Oh!” The woman looked startled and painfully pleased at the same time. “Oh no, thank you, but this is not for me.” She looked down at the tray, heavily laden with fruits and vegetables as well as several large muffins and a steaming pot of something that smelled heavenly and reminded John of the tik-tik. “I am taking a tray to Dr. McKay. He is working very hard down in the lab, trying to determine the secrets of the Ancient device that has affected…um, the Colonel,” she finished off with embarrassment, glancing briefly at John. “I know that he will not rest until he finds an answer and he cannot think without food.”
John uncoiled himself from the table and stood looking down at the tray that Miko held. Something was missing…but what? He glanced back over at the table and snagged one of the few remaining turkey sandwiches, laying it on the plate beside the banana. Nope. That wasn’t it. With a finger snap, he picked up the two containers of pudding he’d selected but for some reason hadn’t eaten and then felt satisfied when he set them on the tray. And then he took the tray from Miko and looked at her expectantly.
“Oh dear!” Miko squeaked and looked to Teyla for guidance.
“John,” Teyla and Ronon were standing now as well. “Would you like to take Rodney this tray of food?”
John gave a little nod and tipped his head questioningly towards the door.
“Let’s go then,” Ronon smirked.
****
John heard Rodney well in advance of their approach to the lab. “No, no, no,” Rodney’s voice had a particularly carrying quality, especially now, as he sounded enraged. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. We can’t simply allow that woman to rip out the implant-it has to be disconnected, properly. Otherwise, who knows what more damage could occur. It’s like…like not properly ejecting a flash drive from a USB port!”
He paused at the doorway to the lab, Ronon, Teyla and Miko stopping with him. Inside, Rodney was stalking around the large room, pulling at his hair with both hands so that it stood up in small, angry tufts. “We’ve got to find the answers in either the main device itself or the database before Carson and that Doogie Howser woman do something incredibly stupid to John.”
Several scientists in white coats sat with their heads bowed over their workstations, studiously not looking at Rodney. A small, frazzled-looking man with glasses and an exasperated expression looked startled by their entrance and sat up straighter, pushing his glasses up his nose.
Behind him, Teyla cleared her throat. Rodney turned sharply in their direction and then his mouth fell open in charming stupefaction.
“John wanted to bring you some food,” Teyla said encouragingly, giving John a little push into the room.
“He stole the idea from Miko,” Ronon volunteered, earning a brilliant smile from Miko and a dirty look from John.
“Oh. Well. That’s incredibly nice…of both of you,” Rodney added belatedly, coming forward as John set the tray down on the nearest surface, pushing aside some papers that Rodney hastily rescued.
“It is good to see you up and about, Colonel,” the man with the glasses took them off to polish them, smiling at John as he replaced them on his nose. “Cat still got your tongue?”
John stuck his tongue out of his mouth and looked down at it with eyes crossing in an attempt to see what the other man had meant. “My apologies,” the other man laughed, “it is a phrase, no? One that indicates you are speechless.” He had an interesting cadence to his speech pattern that was different from everyone else’s and not similar to the lilt of Carson’s voice either.
“Way to go, Radek,” Rodney sneered. “Confuse the man with idioms.”
“Pity the cat did not get your tongue, Rodney,” Radek said tartly, “then we might all be able to concentrate on our work.” He tipped his head sideways to peer at the implant in John’s head, even as Rodney sputtered in the background.
He was reaching forward to touch the implant even as John was leaning instinctively away when Rodney pushed in between the two of them and barked out, “Don’t touch him!”
Radek’s hand froze mid-air and everyone turned to look at Rodney. He was reaching out to block Radek, his sharp, blue eyes snapping with anger and something else as well. Protectiveness. John recognized it in every line of Rodney’s body, in the way he’d suddenly moved in between Radek and himself. Carefully, he placed a hand on Rodney’s shoulder and felt Rodney startle beneath his touch. Rodney whipped his head around to look into his eyes and John felt that sense of remembrance, of connection again.
Rodney flushed red from the neck up and began to stammer. “I…it’s just…the implant, I touched the implant back on the planet and I nearly killed him.” He looked woefully embarrassed and ashamed at the same time.
John gave him a little pat on the shoulder and then pulled him into a hug. He turned his nose into Rodney’s neck and took in a deep breath of his scent, feeling that this too was right and familiar. Rodney felt stiff and frozen in his arms and then John could tell the moment the thaw began, felt Rodney shift and relax against his body.
Miko squeaked from her corner.
“Yeah,” Ronon drawled. “He’s been doing that. Weird, huh? Must be the implant.”
Teyla made a choking noise of agreement.
Rodney suddenly stiffened again and with rigid arms, pushed John back. “Yes, right. Implant. Of course.” He locked his gaze with John’s as he spoke and John saw hurt and loss briefly reflected in them before their focus sharpened. Rodney suddenly snapped his fingers in a rapid staccato. “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, moving away from John to stalk around the room in a small circle.
He stopped to point at John. “The implant. You might be on to something, Ronon. The implant does not seem to be part of the original design, even though the materials seem Ancient in origin. I’m betting this was part of the modifications the Zolon made when they began using the device for themselves. The implant could be what’s suppressing his memories.”
“All the more reason to allow Carson and Dr. Keller to remove the implant,” Radek argued.
“The biological trauma that could occur by surgically removing an implant that is affecting his temporal lobes is not acceptable,” Rodney snapped. “The Zolon are not that sophisticated. They didn’t have a team of surgeons implant the bloody thing, now did they? No, the implant must have an on/off switch. We just need more time to find it.”
“Forty-eight hours, Rodney,” Carson’s distinctive accent came from the doorway behind them. “I’ll give ye forty-eight hours. After that, we must consider primary removal if we have any hopes of restoring the Colonel to a more functional state. Our scans indicate the longer he remains this way, the less likely he is to regain normal speech again. And now, Colonel,” Carson entered the room and gently took him by the arm. “If you would come with me? We need you back at the infirmary again.”
John looked over his shoulder at his friends, Rodney looking back at him with dismay. A surge of resistance welled up in him suddenly and then he allowed himself to be drawn away. These people were trying to help him. He knew that. But he’d rather have stayed with Rodney.
****
Rodney watched as John was led out of his lab, seeing the glance of regret he shot Ronon, Teyla and Rodney himself, and felt torn. He desperately wanted to accompany John to the infirmary, but Carson's ultimatum now weighed heavily on his mind. He wasn't sure why he was so certain, but he just knew that the cure for John wasn't to be found by the simple removal of the implant. Actually, truth be told, he was no longer certain it could even be found in the device itself.
Rodney turned his head to look over at the device, now spread out in pieces over the large worktable, each one annotated in great detail so as to record its connection to the device as a whole and its likely role its operation, and let out a huff of frustration. While John had been on his tour with Teyla and Ronon, Rodney and Radek had not been idle. They'd spent hours carefully dissecting the device, working out how it was powered and its connections, drawing up detailed schematics and then combing the Ancient database for any indication of what its original purpose might have been. For all the good it had done them. Rodney shook his head, they were still not anywhere near knowing how to reverse the effects of the device than they had been when they'd started. He understood why Radek had been on Carson's side, supporting the removal of the implant - they needed a new avenue to explore - but he still didn't like the idea, John's cry of pain when Rodney had touched the implant down on the planet all too vivid in his mind. He was vaguely aware of Radek muttering something about setting up another search of the database and waved him off with an distracted air, his mind still very much on John.
Still deep in thought, Rodney reached out a hand to grab the cup of coffee from the tray John had brought. As he did so, he spotted the two pudding cups, one chocolate and one vanilla, sitting side-by-side on the tray. He smiled at the sight, familiar from the countless times he'd seen them sit there, just like that, on John's tray every time he and John had lunch together, just waiting for Rodney to steal. The sight of them now buoyed Rodney's flagging spirits - it was, after all, yet more proof that John really was still himself and even if he didn't yet explicitly recall things, at least some part of his subconscious remembered.
“He was very keen to see you, Rodney,” Teyla said softly, coming to stand next to him as he continued to stare down at the pudding cups. “It seems you were right.”
“Of course I was,” he answered automatically, before he had a chance to process her words thoroughly. “Oh,” he said, looking up at her with interest. “It went well then? The tour?”
“Very well,” Ronon replied with a huge grin. “He's still a crack shot.”
“What?!” Rodney squawked. “Oh my god - you really did it, didn't you? You took him to the armory.”
“And the shooting range,” Ronon added, sounding very satisfied with John's prowess with a gun, his mental disabilities notwithstanding. “He'll handle himself with no problem against the Wraith.”
“Please, tell me you are joking,” Rodney said, looking up at Ronon in horror. “He is not going anywhere near the Wraith in his current condition!”
“Of course not, Rodney,” Teyla intercepted quickly, shooting Ronon a narrow-eyed look. “But it is heartening, is it not? That John appears to be remembering so much about his life here, even if he is not yet3 able to express himself in any other way but with his actions.” She glanced meaningfully down at the pudding cups as she spoke, and then looked up at Rodney, tilting her head to one side and raising an expressive eyebrow.
Rodney felt his face heat at her regard, recalling the warm press of John's body against his as John had held him close. “Yeah, uh...” he stumbled, his mind whirring with the knowledge that Teyla and Ronon weren't really supposed to know about him and John, even though they obviously did. He forced himself to study their faces, trying to ignore his own embarrassment in favor of gauging his teammates reaction to his less than legal relationship with their team leader. “Ah, so, you... ah... you guys know about John and...” he trailed off uncomfortably.
“Don't sweat it, McKay,” Ronon said, rolling his eyes and reaching out to clap his hand solidly against Rodney's shoulder. “You people sure do have some dumb ideas about what's right and wrong.”
“I... ah... yes,” Rodney stuttered, wincing slightly and rubbing his shoulder at the force of Ronon's apparent approval. “Um, thanks then, for that,” he said, waving his hand awkwardly and feeling his flush deepen.
Teyla smiled up at him, her eyes soft. “You are most welcome; you know that.”
“Rodney?” Radek's soft inquiry as he re-entered the room brought Rodney's mind back to the task at hand. “We should get back to work, yes?”
“Yes, we'd better,” he agreed, turning back to the work table and blinking swiftly in an effort to get his mind back on track.
“We will see you later, Rodney,” Teyla said, her hand coming to rest briefly on his shoulder and squeezing gently before disappearing.
“Later, McKay,” Ronon echoed as he and Teyla left the lab.
“Later,” Rodney echoed distractedly. “Right,” he said, clapping his hands together and looking up at Radek. “Now that we've taken this thing apart, lets see if we can put it back together again, shall we?”
****
Three hours later saw the device re-assembled and sitting once more in pristine condition in the center of the work table. Radek and Rodney sat next to each other, both scowling darkly at it.
“Well, that went well,” Rodney remarked sarcastically.
“It is most perplexing,” Radek agreed.
“Yes, perplexing, infuriating, and damn near impossible!” Rodney snapped, rising to his feet in his indignation. “I mean, how on Earth is such a thing supposed to work, anyway?” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, before continuing. “I mean, I think we've got a reasonable hypothesis as to how it causes the damage it inflicts, but there's absolutely no indication of how to reverse the procedure.”
“Rodney?” Radek started to say cautiously. “Perhaps that is because-”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Rodney interrupted, feeling resigned all of a sudden. “Because it's not supposed to...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Damn stupid Ancients and their damn stupid devices,” he muttered under his breath and trying to not give in to the feelings of failure that were already threatening.
“And what's the purpose of this transmission relay?” he asked aloud, waving his hands towards the device in frustration and trying to distract himself with the mysteries as yet unsolved. “Is the device supposed to network with something, I wonder? Perhaps connect to a computer to direct the level of the impairment? But, no,” he continued, contradicting himself almost immediately. “The targeting mechanism is part of the device itself, so that can't be it...” He trailed off, frowning down at the machine, lost in thought.
“I don't know, Rodney,” Radek said tiredly. “We've been working for hours; we should go inform Dr. Beckett of our findings so far and then get some rest before we continue.”
Rodney sighed, scrubbing a hand over his tired eyes as he did so. “Yes,” he admitted, moving to pick up his laptop and placing it under one arm. “As much as it pains me to say it, you're right - we should go see Carson.” He turned towards the door, pausing briefly to usher Radek out ahead of him with a wave of his free hand. “But don't think I'm done with this,” he declared, stabbing a finger in the direction of the device. “There's got to be a reason the device was designed to connect to an Ancient CPU, and I'm going to figure it out.”
Radek's only response was a grunt and they made their way to the infirmary in thoughtful silence. As they drew closer, Rodney felt his stomach start to knot - the anticipation of seeing John warring with the lack of progress into reversing the effects of the device he'd have to report. They approached the final stretch of corridor and were within sight of the infirmary doors when they slid open and Major Lorne appeared.
“Hey, docs,” he said as he came down the corridor towards them. Even though his greeting was pleasant, the strain he was feeling was obvious from both his expression and in the rigidity of his shoulders. “Any news?” he asked, coming to a halt beside them.
Rodney and Radek exchanged a quick glance, coming to the silent agreement that the corridor was not really the best place to admit that they were not actually any closer to curing the CO of Atlantis.
“We have made some progress,” Radek replied cautiously, removing his glasses and polishing the lenses with his sleeve as he spoke. “We were just going to talk to Dr Beckett; perhaps you could accompany us, Major?”
“No can do, I'm afraid, doc,” Lorne replied. “We've a team due back in from P3M-T57 in a couple of hours and the paperwork is already backing up on the Colonel's desk. I'm sure he's done this on purpose 'cause he knows it's performance review time.” Lorne grinned ruefully in the direction of the infirmary doors as he finished.
“How's he doing?” Rodney asked before he could stop himself, his eyes following the direction of Lorne's gaze as if he could see John through the doors themselves.
Lorne shrugged and glanced to the infirmary again quickly before looking back to Rodney. “Not too bad, I guess,” he replied a little uncertainly. “I mean, I know he can't talk and all, and he doesn't seem to remember a lot of stuff, but he still seems to be himself, you know? It's like he still understands stuff and I'm sure he knew what I was talking about. Does that sound crazy to you?”
Rodney felt a flood of relief rush through him at Lorne's words - certain now that the conclusions he and the rest of John's team had come to were actually based in reality, as opposed to mere wishful thinking. “No,” he said. “No, that doesn't sound crazy - whatever the device did to him, it didn't completely erase his mind, just... made it hard for him to access certain aspects of himself.”
“Well, that's a relief,” Lorne said, something in his stance relaxing a little at Rodney's words. He reached out and clapped Rodney on the shoulder. “Besides, he's got you guys on the case - I'm sure you'll have him right as rain in no time.”
“Yes, well, that is the plan,” Rodney replied, letting his determination and his belief in his ability color his words.
“That's good to hear, doc,” Lorne said, a smile now tugging at his features. Suddenly a click sounded and Lorne got a vague, distracted look in his eyes as his radio crackled into life. “Lorne here... yeah...Well, bring 'em home asap... No... Okay... Right, I'm on my way,” he snapped the connection closed, already starting to make his way down the corridor at a run. “Sorry, duty calls,” he called out over his shoulder as he went. “And anytime you wanna get the Colonel back to fighting condition will be fine by me!”
As Lorne disappeared around the bend of the corridor, Radek turned to look at Rodney with a strange expression on his face.
“What?” Rodney demanded irritably; he was getting quite fed up with all... well, all the fond looks he'd been receiving of late “Come on, out with it,” he insisted at Radek's continued silence, turning to glare at him. “What's wrong?”
Radek tilted his head to one side, regarding Rodney intently before shrugging his shoulders. “Nothing is wrong, Rodney,” he said with a small smile. “It is just... good, to see you like this.”
“Like what, exactly?” Rodney demanded, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Radek's smile broadened. “Like you have something to fight for - something more than pure science and your own life, that is.”
Rodney could only look at Radek in stunned silence while he assimilated the implications of his remark. First Teyla and Ronon, and now Radek; he swallowed heavily, unsure of how to respond. “Um...”
Radek merely gestured towards the door to the infirmary. “After you, Rodney,” he said meekly, smiling at Rodney far too innocently.
****
John looked up the moment Rodney and Radek entered the infirmary, his gaze locking on to Rodney's immediately. For a moment it looked almost as if John was going to pull free of the various wires connected to the mess of electrodes stuck to his head and approach Rodney, but his obvious impulse was curbed by the hand Keller quickly placed on his forearm to hold him still. Following the direction of John's attention, Keller turned and smiled at Rodney and Radek, ushering them closer with a wave of her free hand.
“Come over here before he breaks loose entirely,” she said, her eyes sparkling with humor. “It took me ages to get these electrodes attached to his scalp through his hair and I've only just started removing them - I don't want him breaking loose quite yet.”
“Hmm,” Rodney grunted. “I'm surprised he let you anywhere near his hair with all that stuff.”
Keller laughed. “He was a little wary at first,” she admitted. “I had to promise him that I had absolutely no intention of cutting it.” Her expression turned serious then. “We've been taking some EEG readings - trying to get a more precise idea of the location of the damage.”
“Ah, Rodney, Radek,” Carson said, approaching them, a data pad clasped in his hand and his eyes bright with hope. Rodney swallowed hard. “You've good news, I hope. What have you been able to discover?”
“Well,” Rodney began, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. “We've managed to get to grips with most of what the device does - from what we can tell, it works by implanting its electrodes directly into a person's brain and then applying a low level current which presumably shorts out the neural pathways specified - something akin to a stroke, I imagine.”
“Aye,” Carson said, nodding slowly. “That does seem reasonable.”
“And it would explain both the damage we've seen and the EEG readings,” Keller added, her eyes flicking up to the myriad of images of John's brain currently being displayed on the infirmary's main computer screen. “But why would anyone want to do such a thing? Is punishment truly its purpose?”
“I don't think so,” Rodney replied. “I mean, I know the Ancients were involved with some quite way out experiments, but nothing we've seen so far would suggest that they were engaged in corporal punishment - especially not something of this magnitude.”
“Could it be a weapon then?” Carson asked. “Something they used against the Wraith perhaps?”
“No - definitely not; of that we can be sure,” Rodney said. “Not only is Wraith physiology significantly different from our own, but the device is also programmed to detect the presence of the ATA-gene. Now, obviously the Zolon have gotten it to work on non-ATA carriers, but I believe that it was originally designed for use on the Ancients themselves.”
“So, we have made some progress understanding how the device works,” Radek continued, picking up Rodney's thread. “Like Rodney said, it is certainly Ancient technology, but we have not been able to find mention of it in the Ancient database, so we don't know what its original purpose might have been.” He paused, looking over at Rodney.
Rodney rolled his eyes and continued imparting the bad news himself. “And we have likewise been unable to determine how the device can be used to undo the effects it causes.” He took another deep breath, his eyes flicking to John briefly, who sat watching Rodney closely, and forced out the rest of it. “In fact, we've had to come to the conclusion that the device was simply not designed to do such a thing.”
John's head tilted to one side at Rodney's words, his brow creasing in confusion. His behavior seemed to indicate that he had understood what Rodney had said, but that he was nevertheless far from convinced that his situation was completely hopeless. Rodney found himself smiling slightly at John's characteristic endless supply of optimism. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of the others in the room. At John's side, Rodney was aware that Keller had raised a hand to her mouth to cover her soft gasp. Even though he'd known what was coming, Radek was wringing his hands together nervously at Rodney's side and even Carson looked horrified.
“Are you quite sure, Rodney?” Carson asked.
Rodney rolled his eyes again. “No, I just enjoy crushing everyone's hope for the hell of it - of course I'm sure!” he snapped. “However,” he continued firmly, raising a finger to emphasize his point. “That does not mean that the situation is hopeless. There still one aspect of the device that confuses me.”
“Something that might point to a cure?” Carson asked.
Rodney shook his head slowly, thinking hard. “Not a cure per se, at least not that the device itself could administer, but still... It's just something odd, that's all.” He sighed again and started pacing around the infirmary, trying to puzzle out what the device's interface with an Ancient computer core could possibly mean. In the background, he was vaguely aware that Radek was explaining this unexplained aspect of the device to Keller and Carson, but was far too engrossed in considering the problem himself to pay them much mind.
The touch of a hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present and he turned to see John, apparently now free of the clutches of the EEG machine, standing beside him with a concerned look on his face.
“Oh,” Rodney said, somewhat stupidly. “Hey.”
John raised an eyebrow in response, and then tilted his head to the door of the infirmary, a slightly mischievous glint in his eye. Rodney turned back to the others to see them all in deep discussion. He looked back at John and felt a grin starting to spread over his face.
“So, the pier?” he suggested quietly, forgetting completely for a moment that John was unable to answer. It all felt so wonderfully familiar - no different to all those times in the past when one of them had busted the other out of the infirmary, both heading quickly for the quiet of the east pier where they could relax together and hang out.
John didn’t reply verbally, of course, but his smile convinced Rodney that he knew exactly what Rodney was talking about.
****
Rodney felt a small twinge of guilt not long after he and John had made their escape from the infirmary, so he radioed Carson to let him know that he’d taken John on another outing. Carson was reluctant at first to grant his permission for the excursion, citing the fact that John had already been out of the infirmary that day with Ronon and Teyla. Rodney had his mouth open, ready to launch into his rebuke, when he heard Keller’s soft tones in the background through the radio connection, convincing Carson that, provided it wasn’t for too long, there was no real danger in John being out for a few more hours.
“It may even do him good,” Rodney heard her say, garnering his immediate respect with her straight-forward and sensible approach. “Especially if Rodney were to do something with the Colonel that might trigger his memories.”
For a moment, Rodney was thoroughly distracted by her words - a myriad of images of him and John doing things together assailing his mind. He felt his eyes glaze and one of his hands started to reach out towards John of its own volition. They were still in the main tower, so as soon as Rodney noticed what he was doing, he pulled his hand back quickly, trying his hardest to turn his mind to other things. That was, until he noticed John's expression. John was once again watching Rodney's reaction closely, a strangely open and almost yearning expression on his face. Their eyes met and for a moment all Rodney could do was stare longingly at John, aware that he was probably giving far too much of himself away with his expression, but unable to do anything about it. To see John, who was normally so controlled, in what seemed to be the same situation as Rodney was himself - his expression completely unguarded and full of longing - was thrilling. Rodney found himself reaching out again, gasping as this time his hand was met by John's, their fingers meshing and intertwining.
Suddenly there came the sound of loud footsteps and raised voices from the corridor up ahead of them. The noise succeeded in breaking the spell between them, and both John and Rodney pulled away from each other at once. Rodney watched in fascination as John responded to the potential threat just as he always had, one hand reaching down to his non-existent thigh-holster and the other reaching up for his equally non-existent radio. He paused when he found neither, his brow creasing in confusion as he looked down at his hands, as if wondering why he'd felt the impetus to act as he had. By this time, Rodney's own training had kicked into gear and he was reaching for his radio when one of the off-world teams appeared around the corner, their faces streaked with mud and their weapons still out as if they'd run into some action.
Rodney frowned as he watched them approach; they were several levels below the gateroom and the only thing on this level was a set of auxiliary science labs. It was then that he noticed that both Major Lorne and Esposito were with the team - Lorne was taking the mission report from the team's leader, a marine Rodney couldn't identify, while Esposito was deep in discussion with Morris, the team's scientist. Both scientists had their scanners out, gesturing at tapping away on them while they walked.
“Is there a problem?” Rodney asked as the team drew level with them.
Both Lorne and Esposito looked up at Rodney's questions, Lorne's eyes flicking briefly to John before returning to Rodney. “Dr McKay, Sir,” he greeted each of them in turn, his stance straightening to attention as he nodded to his CO. Behind him, Rodney saw the military members of the team likewise snap to attention upon spotting John. “No problem; I've got this covered. SGA-5 just ran into a touch of bother with the locals on P3M-T57.”
Rodney's eyes took in the weapons the marines were holding, the casing of which appeared to be fatigued and corroding. “Did they use some sort of chemical on you?” he asked.
“Not as far as we know, sir,” the team's leader replied. “We high-tailed it out of there as soon as they launched their attack; only noticed the damage after we'd gated back.”
“Hmm,” Rodney said, eyeing the damage, his mind already whirring through the possibilities. What could cause that type of damage - acidity, some type of microbe, perhaps even a biological weapon of some sort. “Well, at least the city's quarantine procedures haven't activated, so whatever caused the damage can't be too harmful.” He sighed and looked at John regretfully, cursing more than ever the fact that this wasn't something they could handle together - not with John in his present condition. He'd just have to drop John back at the infirmary before heading back down to work on the latest crisis. Well, there was really nothing for it. Steeling himself, he turned to Lorne.
“Okay then,” he said. “You're heading to one of the auxiliary labs?”
“Yes,” Esposito said. “We thought we'd use one of them because the main labs are all fully booked at the moment.”
“Right, okay. Carry on and get started,” Rodney said. “I'm going to accompany Colonel Sheppard back to the infirmary and then I'll be back. There's a mark two scanner in the largest lab on this level - start there.”
Esposito and Morris nodded at Rodney's orders, but Lorne looked at him closely, his eyes moving to John and then back to Rodney. “Hey, doc,” he said. “I don't think there's anything to worry about quite yet. Like you said, the quarantine's not sounded, so the city doesn't think there's anything up and you've got your hands full already. I'm sure Esposito and Morris can handle the preliminary investigation and I'll keep an eye on my guys while they do so. We'll give you a shout if anything turns up.”
“Don't worry, we can certainly handle conducting the initial scans, Dr. McKay,” Esposito rushed to reassure him. “And we can report our findings in full at the lab meeting tomorrow.”
Rodney nodded slowly, shooting a fleeting glance towards John, who was watching the interplay with quiet concentration. “Okay, carry on,” he said, waving a hand. “And you can consider this part of your performance review,” he called out after them as they started to make their way towards the labs.
Grateful that he didn't have to abandon John and his problem in favor of a different crisis, Rodney turned back to him. “It never ends, does it?” he said, shooting him a grin.
But John didn't seem to be paying attention to Rodney anymore. Like Rodney, he'd turned to watch the group head to the labs, but now had his eyes squeezed closed and looked almost as if he was in pain.
“Hey,” Rodney said, drawing close to John again in concern. “John, are you okay?”
John's eyes opened at Rodney's words, but instead of the recognition Rodney had come to expect in John's expression, his eyes now reflected nothing but deep confusion. John's eyelids flickered quickly and he started to sway on his feet, one of his hands coming up to hover over the implant in his temple. Rodney reached out, intending to help steady him, but John had started to move, turning away from Rodney to stare intently at something on the wall ahead of them. Moving so that he could see whatever it was that had John so enraptured, Rodney was surprised to find that all he was faced with was a completely unremarkable stretch of Ancient wall paneling. Turning back to John, Rodney found that he'd closed his eyes again, his head tilted to one side as if he were trying discern a very faint noise. Very slowly, John brought up a hand, placing it carefully palm down on the wall.
“John?” Rodney said again softly. “Please, you have to tell me what's wrong.” He reached out and this time succeeded in touching John, placing his hand gently on John's shoulder.
John's eyes flickered open at the contact and he stepped away from the wall, turning his head to look at Rodney. To Rodney's relief, his expression once again seemed to be focused. He shook his head slowly and shrugged, pointing a finger towards his ear and then holding his hand out open as if trying to explain that he'd thought he'd heard something, but couldn't explain what it was. He then reached his hand up so that he could cover Rodney's hand, the one that was still resting on his shoulder, with his own.
“Okay,” Rodney said, removing his hand from John's shoulder, taking John's hand with it and then giving in to the impulse to twine their fingers together again. “I think we should probably head back to the infirmary.”
John nodded slowly in reply, squeezing Rodney's hand tightly as he did so.
****
To Dumbstruck part 3
Dumbstruck
Part Two
John waited patiently while Teyla and Ronon appeared to be arguing again. Well, not arguing per se so much as disagreeing what to do with him next. The urge to step in and make a decision for them was strong, but he let it simmer in the background. He had no idea where they were going or what they were proposing anyway. The conflict now was over Ronon’s plan to take him to something called the armory. John relaxed against a wall and watched the by-play between the two people who had served as his guides all afternoon.
They’d appeared in the infirmary that afternoon, Teyla looking like an exotic dancer in a stitched leather bodice affair that showed off her taut abdomen and emphasized her dancer’s grace when she moved. She seemed completely unaware of her innate hotness. Ronon looked dangerous, a sleeveless shirt showing off impressive muscles and bronzed skin decorated with tattoos. He had his dreds tied back behind his head; his bearded face was clean and looked less threatening than it had on the planet, but John could sense the underlying lethality of the man that was never far from the surface. It had made him wonder just what kind of relationship he had with these people and why they seemed to be so concerned about him.
That the doctors were concerned about his physical condition, he knew. Despite what the blue-eyed man named Carson thought, John’s hearing was pretty good and he knew that both Carson and the pretty little girl named Jennifer thought that he was brain damaged. He recalled that Rodney thought he was brain damaged too but that this seemed to be a normal state as far as Rodney was concerned, so John recognized it as the friendly insult that it was. He didn’t feel brain damaged. Maybe that was one of the symptoms. All he knew was that he could not access certain information. Since there seemed to be little he could do about that, he’d opted for absorbing as much new information as he could.
Which was why he’d been relieved when Ronon and Teyla apparently wanted to spring him from the infirmary. Yes. He was tired of being poked and prodded and having sympathetic looks shot in his direction. It had precipitated a first argument however. Ronon was all for just leaving, Teyla for informing the doctors and asking for permission to take John with them. They’d gone back and forth on the subject for a moment, before John had swung his feet off the bed where he’d been sitting and walked over to the two of them-taking each one by the hand and indicating the door with their clasped fists together.
Teyla had taken a sharp intake of breath and then beamed at him. Ronon had looked at him seriously for a long moment, an expression of intense pain crossing his face like the effects of the stunner blast and then he’d suddenly pulled John into a crushing embrace, lifting him slightly off the ground, his other arm pulled backwards, still in Teyla’s grip. He’d made some gurgling noises and Ronon had abruptly let him go.
John had felt his eyebrow raise and his face twist as he’d looked at Ronon askance.
Ronon had let out a hearty laugh and clapped him on the shoulder with enough force that Teyla had to hold him up.
“Fine,” Ronon had conceded, “I’ll go tell the doc we’re taking Sheppard out for a little air.”
“Do you think you might confuse John by calling him ‘Sheppard’?” Teyla had suggested in her calm way.
“Calling him John when I never call him John would confuse him more. He’s not stupid, Teyla, just…scrambled.”
“I never said he was…oh, that man,” Teyla had groused in the general direction of Ronon’s back as he’d crossed the infirmary for Carson’s office. “Sometimes I think he needs a good…what is your word? Walloping.” She'd looked at John suddenly and seemed to see something in his face, because her exasperated expression had faded and one of sweet concern had appeared in its place. “Don’t mind Ronon. He had a very hard existence before coming to Atlantis and joining your team. He is one of a handful of survivors of his people and I think we’ve become like a family to him. You are a very important part of that family, John.”
John had reached out and gently brushed the side of her face with his fingers. Teyla had blinked at him, her mouth trembling, as though she might start to cry. “Yes,” she’d said with a watery smile, “You are part of my family as well.”
She’d then taken him by the forearms and had tipped her head forward, as though bowing. She’d glanced up through her bangs at him and he’d suddenly realized he was supposed to bow back, coming forward himself until their foreheads brushed. He’d felt the small sigh she released at the gesture and was warmed by the smile he’d received on straightening again.
Family. He had family. Family seemed very important. Worth living for. Worth dying for. In his head though, he could not distinguish between the words family and team.
He’d wanted to ask where Rodney was, but had no way to convey that information. They’d instead taken him all over the city-on the balconies, where they stood looking down at the sea and feeling the warmth of the sun on their skin. To the gateroom and Elizabeth’s office, where the slim, dark-haired woman in red and black had given him another one of those brittle smiles and he'd thought family, but recognized an enforced distance and did not know why it was there. He’d been in transporters and on the pier, down to the jumper bays and now was waiting for Ronon and Teyla to agree on where to take him next. He inspected his clothing while he listened to the argument, a tight black shirt with short sleeves, black pants, black boots. The clothing had been waiting for him after the last of his examinations in the infirmary. The watch he’d placed instinctively on the left wrist-he’d noted that the numbers within kept changing but did not know what that meant. The black fuzzy band he’d placed on his right wrist, frowning at it now as he wondered about its significance.
The wall behind him felt warm against his skin, like the sun on his face on the balcony, and it whispered to him of family and home.
“I hardly think Elizabeth would appreciate it if we taught John how to shoot,” Teyla said somewhat sharply, and John gave the conversation his full attention again.
“He knows how to shoot on some level,” Ronon countered. “This is about making sure he’s safe around weapons-that he hasn’t forgotten anything vital. Besides, shooting comes naturally to him, it’s a memory we should try to trigger.” Ronon grinned in a feral manner at Teyla for some reason and she rolled her eyes in response.
Teyla looked unconvinced, but Ronon continued on. “What’s the first thing we teach our children?” he asked in a serious voice. “Fear the Wraith. Avoid their culling beams. Don’t let them touch you. And as soon as we can, we teach them how to fire a weapon, to defend themselves. This is the world we live in, Teyla, not the world the Earthers know.” He paused, glancing at John before turning back to Teyla again. “Taking me to the armory was one of the first things Sheppard did when I came here. It wasn’t just about checking me out on the weapons. It was about trust.”
“Very well,” Teyla relented. “The two of you boys can go play in the armory while I set up the next experience. Meet me in the mess hall in one hour.” Teyla glanced at the watch on her wrist as she spoke and John found himself doing the same, but it still didn’t make any sense to him. She caught him doing so and she smiled.
She took him gently by the wrist and rotated his arm so they could both see the surface of the watch. “An hour is a unit of time. Your home planet has 24 hours in a day.” He nodded at the word day; that he understood. “These little numbers here count seconds-60 seconds in one minute. These numbers here count minutes. 60 minutes in one hour. This number here, changes on the hour.”
“You think he’s actually going to follow that?” Ronon said skeptically, but John was nodding enthusiastically and tapping the surface of the watch. 3600 seconds in an hour. 86,400 seconds in a day. The beauty of the math pleased him. He looked up to see Teyla smiling at him with bright eyes.
“Go play with your toys,” she said. “I will see about getting us some food.”
John’s stomach growled at her words and everyone laughed.
****
The armory had been great fun. Ronon had taken him into the secure facility and over to a table where a wide variety of weapons were displayed. He’d then gone through an explanation of safe use and handling, explaining the basics of gun safety before letting John pick up any of the weapons. Once he was satisfied that John was not going to accidentally kill someone, he’d hesitated over a set of ear muffs; John had gotten the impression that Ronon normally wouldn’t wear them but didn’t want to set a bad example as Ronon had put on a pair and indicated that John do the same. “So you won’t be deaf in your rapidly advancing age, old man,” Ronon had said jokingly.
Ear protectors. John had realized it as soon as the sound dampened around him and had grinned when the shooting began.
The weapons had felt natural and right in his hands; he’d recognized right away that the calluses formed previously were from a lifetime of holding such guns. He’d felt excited in a way that only sitting in the jumper had made him feel before-this was it, this was right, he was getting closer to who he really was. The shooting went on for some time; Ronon had even let him fire Ronon’s energy pistol. John had gotten the feeling that was a great honor and he’d let his enthusiasm show on his face.
Just when he’d thought the session was coming to a close, Ronon pressed a switch under the table and a new target wheeled into sight-stopping at the shooting distance. Unlike the faceless paper targets from before, the figure was a detailed simulation of a person, but a person unlike one John could ever recall seeing before. The figure was dressed in a sweeping black coat, with long white hair and a pale, greenish complexion, mouth open in a snarl, fangs showing. A single hand was depicted reaching forward but there was no weapon in it.
John had looked at Ronon for an explanation. “This is a Wraith,” he’d spat, the hatred rippling in his low growl. “The only good Wraith is a dead Wraith. You see one, you shoot it, before it kills you. They are hard to kill, so shoot it a lot. Understand?”
John had lifted the Beretta he’d been holding and emptied the clip into the center of the target, creating a large hole in the paper Wraith.
“Cool,” Ronon had grinned.
That was the word John had been searching for. Cool.
Now they were sitting in a large, open room, filled with tables and chairs where people apparently came to eat as a group in this community. Sunlight poured in from great, patterned windows on one wall, the room also opened out onto a large balcony and the smell of the sea came in through the open doors, along with the faint cries of some small flying creatures that Teyla had identified as birds. The room was mostly empty now; the time for regular meals apparently long since over. It made the fact that food was still available all the more remarkable.
They were making their way steadily through a huge platter of turkey sandwiches, along with chips and salsa. Ronon had over-ruled Teyla’s protest and produced a cold beer with an evil grin, but he’d agreed that John should only have one. It was without a doubt the best food that John had ever eaten and he’d eaten with enthusiasm, belching loudly as he pushed his nearly empty tray back.
Ronon and Teyla both laughed.
“Your people believe you should say ‘excuse me’ when you burp in public, John,” Teyla said with a small giggle.
“Don’t make a sissy out of him,” Ronon complained. “He’s free of all those stupid Earth rules now. He should be able to belch, fart or scratch his balls if he wants to now.”
Ronon leaned back in his chair and scratched idly at his armpit, grinning at John all the while. John snickered and shot a glance at Teyla, who was looking thoughtful.
“Not all stupid Earth rules. There are some he should still obey.” Whatever Teyla meant by that, Ronon seemed to get it. He stopped scratching and sat up abruptly, leaning forward to rest his arms along the table in front of him.
“You think he remembers that? That he and McKay…?”
Teyla shrugged elegantly. “I doubt it. We’re not even supposed to know about it,” she raised an eyebrow at Ronon. “I’m just saying it would be awkward for everyone if he suddenly displayed…a disregard for certain rules.”
A thoughtful silence descended on the table for a moment. “Well, he’s being pretty touchy-feely right now, for him. I’m betting we can get away with calling it the effects of the device if something happens.”
Teyla nodded. “Particularly if we make it known, that John is…more openly affectionate than usual.”
John tapped the tabletop and made a ‘hello, sitting right here’ gesture with his hand when they both looked at him.
“I kinda like him like this. It’s kinda peaceful, you know?” Ronon grinned at him, even while ostensibly speaking to Teyla. “Who knows, maybe someone will listen to us on a mission for a change?”
“There will be no more missions with John unless we figure out how to restore his memories, Ronon,” Teyla said, a note of concern and sadness creeping into her lovely voice. “They might not even let him remain in Atlantis.”
John felt the city tremble with the impact of Teyla’s words.
“Why would they send him back to Earth? It’s not like they’re any better equipped to deal with his problems than we are.”
Teyla just shook her head, her coppery hair brushing her shoulders with the movement. “He’s military. He will have to follow their orders-if they choose to send him back to Earth, Elizabeth will have no choice but to send him. And they will assign someone else to his position here.”
“Someone who won’t trust us,” Ronon growled and then sighed. “McKay will have a cow.”
The image of a large black and white bovine creature calmly chewing its cud sprang to mind, but John had no idea why Rodney would want one.
You must stay. We need you. John looked up at the ceiling of the room trying to figure out exactly where the words were coming from. Stay, the city pleaded. We need you.
A small woman burdened with a tray of food walked past their table. She had long, dark hair swept up into a bun and on her face wore heavy, black goggles…no, glasses. She gave them a weak smile in passing and Teyla called out. “Miko, would you care to join us?”
“Oh!” The woman looked startled and painfully pleased at the same time. “Oh no, thank you, but this is not for me.” She looked down at the tray, heavily laden with fruits and vegetables as well as several large muffins and a steaming pot of something that smelled heavenly and reminded John of the tik-tik. “I am taking a tray to Dr. McKay. He is working very hard down in the lab, trying to determine the secrets of the Ancient device that has affected…um, the Colonel,” she finished off with embarrassment, glancing briefly at John. “I know that he will not rest until he finds an answer and he cannot think without food.”
John uncoiled himself from the table and stood looking down at the tray that Miko held. Something was missing…but what? He glanced back over at the table and snagged one of the few remaining turkey sandwiches, laying it on the plate beside the banana. Nope. That wasn’t it. With a finger snap, he picked up the two containers of pudding he’d selected but for some reason hadn’t eaten and then felt satisfied when he set them on the tray. And then he took the tray from Miko and looked at her expectantly.
“Oh dear!” Miko squeaked and looked to Teyla for guidance.
“John,” Teyla and Ronon were standing now as well. “Would you like to take Rodney this tray of food?”
John gave a little nod and tipped his head questioningly towards the door.
“Let’s go then,” Ronon smirked.
****
John heard Rodney well in advance of their approach to the lab. “No, no, no,” Rodney’s voice had a particularly carrying quality, especially now, as he sounded enraged. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. We can’t simply allow that woman to rip out the implant-it has to be disconnected, properly. Otherwise, who knows what more damage could occur. It’s like…like not properly ejecting a flash drive from a USB port!”
He paused at the doorway to the lab, Ronon, Teyla and Miko stopping with him. Inside, Rodney was stalking around the large room, pulling at his hair with both hands so that it stood up in small, angry tufts. “We’ve got to find the answers in either the main device itself or the database before Carson and that Doogie Howser woman do something incredibly stupid to John.”
Several scientists in white coats sat with their heads bowed over their workstations, studiously not looking at Rodney. A small, frazzled-looking man with glasses and an exasperated expression looked startled by their entrance and sat up straighter, pushing his glasses up his nose.
Behind him, Teyla cleared her throat. Rodney turned sharply in their direction and then his mouth fell open in charming stupefaction.
“John wanted to bring you some food,” Teyla said encouragingly, giving John a little push into the room.
“He stole the idea from Miko,” Ronon volunteered, earning a brilliant smile from Miko and a dirty look from John.
“Oh. Well. That’s incredibly nice…of both of you,” Rodney added belatedly, coming forward as John set the tray down on the nearest surface, pushing aside some papers that Rodney hastily rescued.
“It is good to see you up and about, Colonel,” the man with the glasses took them off to polish them, smiling at John as he replaced them on his nose. “Cat still got your tongue?”
John stuck his tongue out of his mouth and looked down at it with eyes crossing in an attempt to see what the other man had meant. “My apologies,” the other man laughed, “it is a phrase, no? One that indicates you are speechless.” He had an interesting cadence to his speech pattern that was different from everyone else’s and not similar to the lilt of Carson’s voice either.
“Way to go, Radek,” Rodney sneered. “Confuse the man with idioms.”
“Pity the cat did not get your tongue, Rodney,” Radek said tartly, “then we might all be able to concentrate on our work.” He tipped his head sideways to peer at the implant in John’s head, even as Rodney sputtered in the background.
He was reaching forward to touch the implant even as John was leaning instinctively away when Rodney pushed in between the two of them and barked out, “Don’t touch him!”
Radek’s hand froze mid-air and everyone turned to look at Rodney. He was reaching out to block Radek, his sharp, blue eyes snapping with anger and something else as well. Protectiveness. John recognized it in every line of Rodney’s body, in the way he’d suddenly moved in between Radek and himself. Carefully, he placed a hand on Rodney’s shoulder and felt Rodney startle beneath his touch. Rodney whipped his head around to look into his eyes and John felt that sense of remembrance, of connection again.
Rodney flushed red from the neck up and began to stammer. “I…it’s just…the implant, I touched the implant back on the planet and I nearly killed him.” He looked woefully embarrassed and ashamed at the same time.
John gave him a little pat on the shoulder and then pulled him into a hug. He turned his nose into Rodney’s neck and took in a deep breath of his scent, feeling that this too was right and familiar. Rodney felt stiff and frozen in his arms and then John could tell the moment the thaw began, felt Rodney shift and relax against his body.
Miko squeaked from her corner.
“Yeah,” Ronon drawled. “He’s been doing that. Weird, huh? Must be the implant.”
Teyla made a choking noise of agreement.
Rodney suddenly stiffened again and with rigid arms, pushed John back. “Yes, right. Implant. Of course.” He locked his gaze with John’s as he spoke and John saw hurt and loss briefly reflected in them before their focus sharpened. Rodney suddenly snapped his fingers in a rapid staccato. “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, moving away from John to stalk around the room in a small circle.
He stopped to point at John. “The implant. You might be on to something, Ronon. The implant does not seem to be part of the original design, even though the materials seem Ancient in origin. I’m betting this was part of the modifications the Zolon made when they began using the device for themselves. The implant could be what’s suppressing his memories.”
“All the more reason to allow Carson and Dr. Keller to remove the implant,” Radek argued.
“The biological trauma that could occur by surgically removing an implant that is affecting his temporal lobes is not acceptable,” Rodney snapped. “The Zolon are not that sophisticated. They didn’t have a team of surgeons implant the bloody thing, now did they? No, the implant must have an on/off switch. We just need more time to find it.”
“Forty-eight hours, Rodney,” Carson’s distinctive accent came from the doorway behind them. “I’ll give ye forty-eight hours. After that, we must consider primary removal if we have any hopes of restoring the Colonel to a more functional state. Our scans indicate the longer he remains this way, the less likely he is to regain normal speech again. And now, Colonel,” Carson entered the room and gently took him by the arm. “If you would come with me? We need you back at the infirmary again.”
John looked over his shoulder at his friends, Rodney looking back at him with dismay. A surge of resistance welled up in him suddenly and then he allowed himself to be drawn away. These people were trying to help him. He knew that. But he’d rather have stayed with Rodney.
****
Rodney watched as John was led out of his lab, seeing the glance of regret he shot Ronon, Teyla and Rodney himself, and felt torn. He desperately wanted to accompany John to the infirmary, but Carson's ultimatum now weighed heavily on his mind. He wasn't sure why he was so certain, but he just knew that the cure for John wasn't to be found by the simple removal of the implant. Actually, truth be told, he was no longer certain it could even be found in the device itself.
Rodney turned his head to look over at the device, now spread out in pieces over the large worktable, each one annotated in great detail so as to record its connection to the device as a whole and its likely role its operation, and let out a huff of frustration. While John had been on his tour with Teyla and Ronon, Rodney and Radek had not been idle. They'd spent hours carefully dissecting the device, working out how it was powered and its connections, drawing up detailed schematics and then combing the Ancient database for any indication of what its original purpose might have been. For all the good it had done them. Rodney shook his head, they were still not anywhere near knowing how to reverse the effects of the device than they had been when they'd started. He understood why Radek had been on Carson's side, supporting the removal of the implant - they needed a new avenue to explore - but he still didn't like the idea, John's cry of pain when Rodney had touched the implant down on the planet all too vivid in his mind. He was vaguely aware of Radek muttering something about setting up another search of the database and waved him off with an distracted air, his mind still very much on John.
Still deep in thought, Rodney reached out a hand to grab the cup of coffee from the tray John had brought. As he did so, he spotted the two pudding cups, one chocolate and one vanilla, sitting side-by-side on the tray. He smiled at the sight, familiar from the countless times he'd seen them sit there, just like that, on John's tray every time he and John had lunch together, just waiting for Rodney to steal. The sight of them now buoyed Rodney's flagging spirits - it was, after all, yet more proof that John really was still himself and even if he didn't yet explicitly recall things, at least some part of his subconscious remembered.
“He was very keen to see you, Rodney,” Teyla said softly, coming to stand next to him as he continued to stare down at the pudding cups. “It seems you were right.”
“Of course I was,” he answered automatically, before he had a chance to process her words thoroughly. “Oh,” he said, looking up at her with interest. “It went well then? The tour?”
“Very well,” Ronon replied with a huge grin. “He's still a crack shot.”
“What?!” Rodney squawked. “Oh my god - you really did it, didn't you? You took him to the armory.”
“And the shooting range,” Ronon added, sounding very satisfied with John's prowess with a gun, his mental disabilities notwithstanding. “He'll handle himself with no problem against the Wraith.”
“Please, tell me you are joking,” Rodney said, looking up at Ronon in horror. “He is not going anywhere near the Wraith in his current condition!”
“Of course not, Rodney,” Teyla intercepted quickly, shooting Ronon a narrow-eyed look. “But it is heartening, is it not? That John appears to be remembering so much about his life here, even if he is not yet3 able to express himself in any other way but with his actions.” She glanced meaningfully down at the pudding cups as she spoke, and then looked up at Rodney, tilting her head to one side and raising an expressive eyebrow.
Rodney felt his face heat at her regard, recalling the warm press of John's body against his as John had held him close. “Yeah, uh...” he stumbled, his mind whirring with the knowledge that Teyla and Ronon weren't really supposed to know about him and John, even though they obviously did. He forced himself to study their faces, trying to ignore his own embarrassment in favor of gauging his teammates reaction to his less than legal relationship with their team leader. “Ah, so, you... ah... you guys know about John and...” he trailed off uncomfortably.
“Don't sweat it, McKay,” Ronon said, rolling his eyes and reaching out to clap his hand solidly against Rodney's shoulder. “You people sure do have some dumb ideas about what's right and wrong.”
“I... ah... yes,” Rodney stuttered, wincing slightly and rubbing his shoulder at the force of Ronon's apparent approval. “Um, thanks then, for that,” he said, waving his hand awkwardly and feeling his flush deepen.
Teyla smiled up at him, her eyes soft. “You are most welcome; you know that.”
“Rodney?” Radek's soft inquiry as he re-entered the room brought Rodney's mind back to the task at hand. “We should get back to work, yes?”
“Yes, we'd better,” he agreed, turning back to the work table and blinking swiftly in an effort to get his mind back on track.
“We will see you later, Rodney,” Teyla said, her hand coming to rest briefly on his shoulder and squeezing gently before disappearing.
“Later, McKay,” Ronon echoed as he and Teyla left the lab.
“Later,” Rodney echoed distractedly. “Right,” he said, clapping his hands together and looking up at Radek. “Now that we've taken this thing apart, lets see if we can put it back together again, shall we?”
****
Three hours later saw the device re-assembled and sitting once more in pristine condition in the center of the work table. Radek and Rodney sat next to each other, both scowling darkly at it.
“Well, that went well,” Rodney remarked sarcastically.
“It is most perplexing,” Radek agreed.
“Yes, perplexing, infuriating, and damn near impossible!” Rodney snapped, rising to his feet in his indignation. “I mean, how on Earth is such a thing supposed to work, anyway?” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, before continuing. “I mean, I think we've got a reasonable hypothesis as to how it causes the damage it inflicts, but there's absolutely no indication of how to reverse the procedure.”
“Rodney?” Radek started to say cautiously. “Perhaps that is because-”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Rodney interrupted, feeling resigned all of a sudden. “Because it's not supposed to...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Damn stupid Ancients and their damn stupid devices,” he muttered under his breath and trying to not give in to the feelings of failure that were already threatening.
“And what's the purpose of this transmission relay?” he asked aloud, waving his hands towards the device in frustration and trying to distract himself with the mysteries as yet unsolved. “Is the device supposed to network with something, I wonder? Perhaps connect to a computer to direct the level of the impairment? But, no,” he continued, contradicting himself almost immediately. “The targeting mechanism is part of the device itself, so that can't be it...” He trailed off, frowning down at the machine, lost in thought.
“I don't know, Rodney,” Radek said tiredly. “We've been working for hours; we should go inform Dr. Beckett of our findings so far and then get some rest before we continue.”
Rodney sighed, scrubbing a hand over his tired eyes as he did so. “Yes,” he admitted, moving to pick up his laptop and placing it under one arm. “As much as it pains me to say it, you're right - we should go see Carson.” He turned towards the door, pausing briefly to usher Radek out ahead of him with a wave of his free hand. “But don't think I'm done with this,” he declared, stabbing a finger in the direction of the device. “There's got to be a reason the device was designed to connect to an Ancient CPU, and I'm going to figure it out.”
Radek's only response was a grunt and they made their way to the infirmary in thoughtful silence. As they drew closer, Rodney felt his stomach start to knot - the anticipation of seeing John warring with the lack of progress into reversing the effects of the device he'd have to report. They approached the final stretch of corridor and were within sight of the infirmary doors when they slid open and Major Lorne appeared.
“Hey, docs,” he said as he came down the corridor towards them. Even though his greeting was pleasant, the strain he was feeling was obvious from both his expression and in the rigidity of his shoulders. “Any news?” he asked, coming to a halt beside them.
Rodney and Radek exchanged a quick glance, coming to the silent agreement that the corridor was not really the best place to admit that they were not actually any closer to curing the CO of Atlantis.
“We have made some progress,” Radek replied cautiously, removing his glasses and polishing the lenses with his sleeve as he spoke. “We were just going to talk to Dr Beckett; perhaps you could accompany us, Major?”
“No can do, I'm afraid, doc,” Lorne replied. “We've a team due back in from P3M-T57 in a couple of hours and the paperwork is already backing up on the Colonel's desk. I'm sure he's done this on purpose 'cause he knows it's performance review time.” Lorne grinned ruefully in the direction of the infirmary doors as he finished.
“How's he doing?” Rodney asked before he could stop himself, his eyes following the direction of Lorne's gaze as if he could see John through the doors themselves.
Lorne shrugged and glanced to the infirmary again quickly before looking back to Rodney. “Not too bad, I guess,” he replied a little uncertainly. “I mean, I know he can't talk and all, and he doesn't seem to remember a lot of stuff, but he still seems to be himself, you know? It's like he still understands stuff and I'm sure he knew what I was talking about. Does that sound crazy to you?”
Rodney felt a flood of relief rush through him at Lorne's words - certain now that the conclusions he and the rest of John's team had come to were actually based in reality, as opposed to mere wishful thinking. “No,” he said. “No, that doesn't sound crazy - whatever the device did to him, it didn't completely erase his mind, just... made it hard for him to access certain aspects of himself.”
“Well, that's a relief,” Lorne said, something in his stance relaxing a little at Rodney's words. He reached out and clapped Rodney on the shoulder. “Besides, he's got you guys on the case - I'm sure you'll have him right as rain in no time.”
“Yes, well, that is the plan,” Rodney replied, letting his determination and his belief in his ability color his words.
“That's good to hear, doc,” Lorne said, a smile now tugging at his features. Suddenly a click sounded and Lorne got a vague, distracted look in his eyes as his radio crackled into life. “Lorne here... yeah...Well, bring 'em home asap... No... Okay... Right, I'm on my way,” he snapped the connection closed, already starting to make his way down the corridor at a run. “Sorry, duty calls,” he called out over his shoulder as he went. “And anytime you wanna get the Colonel back to fighting condition will be fine by me!”
As Lorne disappeared around the bend of the corridor, Radek turned to look at Rodney with a strange expression on his face.
“What?” Rodney demanded irritably; he was getting quite fed up with all... well, all the fond looks he'd been receiving of late “Come on, out with it,” he insisted at Radek's continued silence, turning to glare at him. “What's wrong?”
Radek tilted his head to one side, regarding Rodney intently before shrugging his shoulders. “Nothing is wrong, Rodney,” he said with a small smile. “It is just... good, to see you like this.”
“Like what, exactly?” Rodney demanded, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Radek's smile broadened. “Like you have something to fight for - something more than pure science and your own life, that is.”
Rodney could only look at Radek in stunned silence while he assimilated the implications of his remark. First Teyla and Ronon, and now Radek; he swallowed heavily, unsure of how to respond. “Um...”
Radek merely gestured towards the door to the infirmary. “After you, Rodney,” he said meekly, smiling at Rodney far too innocently.
****
John looked up the moment Rodney and Radek entered the infirmary, his gaze locking on to Rodney's immediately. For a moment it looked almost as if John was going to pull free of the various wires connected to the mess of electrodes stuck to his head and approach Rodney, but his obvious impulse was curbed by the hand Keller quickly placed on his forearm to hold him still. Following the direction of John's attention, Keller turned and smiled at Rodney and Radek, ushering them closer with a wave of her free hand.
“Come over here before he breaks loose entirely,” she said, her eyes sparkling with humor. “It took me ages to get these electrodes attached to his scalp through his hair and I've only just started removing them - I don't want him breaking loose quite yet.”
“Hmm,” Rodney grunted. “I'm surprised he let you anywhere near his hair with all that stuff.”
Keller laughed. “He was a little wary at first,” she admitted. “I had to promise him that I had absolutely no intention of cutting it.” Her expression turned serious then. “We've been taking some EEG readings - trying to get a more precise idea of the location of the damage.”
“Ah, Rodney, Radek,” Carson said, approaching them, a data pad clasped in his hand and his eyes bright with hope. Rodney swallowed hard. “You've good news, I hope. What have you been able to discover?”
“Well,” Rodney began, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. “We've managed to get to grips with most of what the device does - from what we can tell, it works by implanting its electrodes directly into a person's brain and then applying a low level current which presumably shorts out the neural pathways specified - something akin to a stroke, I imagine.”
“Aye,” Carson said, nodding slowly. “That does seem reasonable.”
“And it would explain both the damage we've seen and the EEG readings,” Keller added, her eyes flicking up to the myriad of images of John's brain currently being displayed on the infirmary's main computer screen. “But why would anyone want to do such a thing? Is punishment truly its purpose?”
“I don't think so,” Rodney replied. “I mean, I know the Ancients were involved with some quite way out experiments, but nothing we've seen so far would suggest that they were engaged in corporal punishment - especially not something of this magnitude.”
“Could it be a weapon then?” Carson asked. “Something they used against the Wraith perhaps?”
“No - definitely not; of that we can be sure,” Rodney said. “Not only is Wraith physiology significantly different from our own, but the device is also programmed to detect the presence of the ATA-gene. Now, obviously the Zolon have gotten it to work on non-ATA carriers, but I believe that it was originally designed for use on the Ancients themselves.”
“So, we have made some progress understanding how the device works,” Radek continued, picking up Rodney's thread. “Like Rodney said, it is certainly Ancient technology, but we have not been able to find mention of it in the Ancient database, so we don't know what its original purpose might have been.” He paused, looking over at Rodney.
Rodney rolled his eyes and continued imparting the bad news himself. “And we have likewise been unable to determine how the device can be used to undo the effects it causes.” He took another deep breath, his eyes flicking to John briefly, who sat watching Rodney closely, and forced out the rest of it. “In fact, we've had to come to the conclusion that the device was simply not designed to do such a thing.”
John's head tilted to one side at Rodney's words, his brow creasing in confusion. His behavior seemed to indicate that he had understood what Rodney had said, but that he was nevertheless far from convinced that his situation was completely hopeless. Rodney found himself smiling slightly at John's characteristic endless supply of optimism. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of the others in the room. At John's side, Rodney was aware that Keller had raised a hand to her mouth to cover her soft gasp. Even though he'd known what was coming, Radek was wringing his hands together nervously at Rodney's side and even Carson looked horrified.
“Are you quite sure, Rodney?” Carson asked.
Rodney rolled his eyes again. “No, I just enjoy crushing everyone's hope for the hell of it - of course I'm sure!” he snapped. “However,” he continued firmly, raising a finger to emphasize his point. “That does not mean that the situation is hopeless. There still one aspect of the device that confuses me.”
“Something that might point to a cure?” Carson asked.
Rodney shook his head slowly, thinking hard. “Not a cure per se, at least not that the device itself could administer, but still... It's just something odd, that's all.” He sighed again and started pacing around the infirmary, trying to puzzle out what the device's interface with an Ancient computer core could possibly mean. In the background, he was vaguely aware that Radek was explaining this unexplained aspect of the device to Keller and Carson, but was far too engrossed in considering the problem himself to pay them much mind.
The touch of a hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present and he turned to see John, apparently now free of the clutches of the EEG machine, standing beside him with a concerned look on his face.
“Oh,” Rodney said, somewhat stupidly. “Hey.”
John raised an eyebrow in response, and then tilted his head to the door of the infirmary, a slightly mischievous glint in his eye. Rodney turned back to the others to see them all in deep discussion. He looked back at John and felt a grin starting to spread over his face.
“So, the pier?” he suggested quietly, forgetting completely for a moment that John was unable to answer. It all felt so wonderfully familiar - no different to all those times in the past when one of them had busted the other out of the infirmary, both heading quickly for the quiet of the east pier where they could relax together and hang out.
John didn’t reply verbally, of course, but his smile convinced Rodney that he knew exactly what Rodney was talking about.
****
Rodney felt a small twinge of guilt not long after he and John had made their escape from the infirmary, so he radioed Carson to let him know that he’d taken John on another outing. Carson was reluctant at first to grant his permission for the excursion, citing the fact that John had already been out of the infirmary that day with Ronon and Teyla. Rodney had his mouth open, ready to launch into his rebuke, when he heard Keller’s soft tones in the background through the radio connection, convincing Carson that, provided it wasn’t for too long, there was no real danger in John being out for a few more hours.
“It may even do him good,” Rodney heard her say, garnering his immediate respect with her straight-forward and sensible approach. “Especially if Rodney were to do something with the Colonel that might trigger his memories.”
For a moment, Rodney was thoroughly distracted by her words - a myriad of images of him and John doing things together assailing his mind. He felt his eyes glaze and one of his hands started to reach out towards John of its own volition. They were still in the main tower, so as soon as Rodney noticed what he was doing, he pulled his hand back quickly, trying his hardest to turn his mind to other things. That was, until he noticed John's expression. John was once again watching Rodney's reaction closely, a strangely open and almost yearning expression on his face. Their eyes met and for a moment all Rodney could do was stare longingly at John, aware that he was probably giving far too much of himself away with his expression, but unable to do anything about it. To see John, who was normally so controlled, in what seemed to be the same situation as Rodney was himself - his expression completely unguarded and full of longing - was thrilling. Rodney found himself reaching out again, gasping as this time his hand was met by John's, their fingers meshing and intertwining.
Suddenly there came the sound of loud footsteps and raised voices from the corridor up ahead of them. The noise succeeded in breaking the spell between them, and both John and Rodney pulled away from each other at once. Rodney watched in fascination as John responded to the potential threat just as he always had, one hand reaching down to his non-existent thigh-holster and the other reaching up for his equally non-existent radio. He paused when he found neither, his brow creasing in confusion as he looked down at his hands, as if wondering why he'd felt the impetus to act as he had. By this time, Rodney's own training had kicked into gear and he was reaching for his radio when one of the off-world teams appeared around the corner, their faces streaked with mud and their weapons still out as if they'd run into some action.
Rodney frowned as he watched them approach; they were several levels below the gateroom and the only thing on this level was a set of auxiliary science labs. It was then that he noticed that both Major Lorne and Esposito were with the team - Lorne was taking the mission report from the team's leader, a marine Rodney couldn't identify, while Esposito was deep in discussion with Morris, the team's scientist. Both scientists had their scanners out, gesturing at tapping away on them while they walked.
“Is there a problem?” Rodney asked as the team drew level with them.
Both Lorne and Esposito looked up at Rodney's questions, Lorne's eyes flicking briefly to John before returning to Rodney. “Dr McKay, Sir,” he greeted each of them in turn, his stance straightening to attention as he nodded to his CO. Behind him, Rodney saw the military members of the team likewise snap to attention upon spotting John. “No problem; I've got this covered. SGA-5 just ran into a touch of bother with the locals on P3M-T57.”
Rodney's eyes took in the weapons the marines were holding, the casing of which appeared to be fatigued and corroding. “Did they use some sort of chemical on you?” he asked.
“Not as far as we know, sir,” the team's leader replied. “We high-tailed it out of there as soon as they launched their attack; only noticed the damage after we'd gated back.”
“Hmm,” Rodney said, eyeing the damage, his mind already whirring through the possibilities. What could cause that type of damage - acidity, some type of microbe, perhaps even a biological weapon of some sort. “Well, at least the city's quarantine procedures haven't activated, so whatever caused the damage can't be too harmful.” He sighed and looked at John regretfully, cursing more than ever the fact that this wasn't something they could handle together - not with John in his present condition. He'd just have to drop John back at the infirmary before heading back down to work on the latest crisis. Well, there was really nothing for it. Steeling himself, he turned to Lorne.
“Okay then,” he said. “You're heading to one of the auxiliary labs?”
“Yes,” Esposito said. “We thought we'd use one of them because the main labs are all fully booked at the moment.”
“Right, okay. Carry on and get started,” Rodney said. “I'm going to accompany Colonel Sheppard back to the infirmary and then I'll be back. There's a mark two scanner in the largest lab on this level - start there.”
Esposito and Morris nodded at Rodney's orders, but Lorne looked at him closely, his eyes moving to John and then back to Rodney. “Hey, doc,” he said. “I don't think there's anything to worry about quite yet. Like you said, the quarantine's not sounded, so the city doesn't think there's anything up and you've got your hands full already. I'm sure Esposito and Morris can handle the preliminary investigation and I'll keep an eye on my guys while they do so. We'll give you a shout if anything turns up.”
“Don't worry, we can certainly handle conducting the initial scans, Dr. McKay,” Esposito rushed to reassure him. “And we can report our findings in full at the lab meeting tomorrow.”
Rodney nodded slowly, shooting a fleeting glance towards John, who was watching the interplay with quiet concentration. “Okay, carry on,” he said, waving a hand. “And you can consider this part of your performance review,” he called out after them as they started to make their way towards the labs.
Grateful that he didn't have to abandon John and his problem in favor of a different crisis, Rodney turned back to him. “It never ends, does it?” he said, shooting him a grin.
But John didn't seem to be paying attention to Rodney anymore. Like Rodney, he'd turned to watch the group head to the labs, but now had his eyes squeezed closed and looked almost as if he was in pain.
“Hey,” Rodney said, drawing close to John again in concern. “John, are you okay?”
John's eyes opened at Rodney's words, but instead of the recognition Rodney had come to expect in John's expression, his eyes now reflected nothing but deep confusion. John's eyelids flickered quickly and he started to sway on his feet, one of his hands coming up to hover over the implant in his temple. Rodney reached out, intending to help steady him, but John had started to move, turning away from Rodney to stare intently at something on the wall ahead of them. Moving so that he could see whatever it was that had John so enraptured, Rodney was surprised to find that all he was faced with was a completely unremarkable stretch of Ancient wall paneling. Turning back to John, Rodney found that he'd closed his eyes again, his head tilted to one side as if he were trying discern a very faint noise. Very slowly, John brought up a hand, placing it carefully palm down on the wall.
“John?” Rodney said again softly. “Please, you have to tell me what's wrong.” He reached out and this time succeeded in touching John, placing his hand gently on John's shoulder.
John's eyes flickered open at the contact and he stepped away from the wall, turning his head to look at Rodney. To Rodney's relief, his expression once again seemed to be focused. He shook his head slowly and shrugged, pointing a finger towards his ear and then holding his hand out open as if trying to explain that he'd thought he'd heard something, but couldn't explain what it was. He then reached his hand up so that he could cover Rodney's hand, the one that was still resting on his shoulder, with his own.
“Okay,” Rodney said, removing his hand from John's shoulder, taking John's hand with it and then giving in to the impulse to twine their fingers together again. “I think we should probably head back to the infirmary.”
John nodded slowly in reply, squeezing Rodney's hand tightly as he did so.
****
To Dumbstruck part 3