sga_flashfic | by Rose - They Bite (First Contact)

rosewildeirish.livejournal.com posting in

Title: They Bite
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Challenge: First Contact
Rating: Mature
Summary: They may not have teeth, but they still bite.
Notes: Mucho thanks to

lyssie and

qwirky for beta duties. Spoilers for most of season 1.

"Hold up! Major, what is that?" Elizabeth's voice barely penetrated the fog John moved in.

"What's what?" he snarled.

"That...shimmer that came through the gate. Four of them, following you all." Fear colored her words, and the omnipresent gate room guards held weapons at the ready.

"That? It was there on the planet. Rodney took tons of readings. It appears to be nothing, really, some sort of...energy phenomena." John was already dismissing the things, taking long strides towards the hallway. "I'm sure it'll take care of itself. After all, it's gone now, right? I need a shower."

Elizabeth could only watch in shock as all four of the team trudged away, every one of their faces set in grim, unhappy lines. Even Rodney just shook his head and walked away.

"What the hell...?" she asked, then reached for her radio.

Someone was going to make damned sure it really was nothing.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

John scrubbed at his skin and wondered when he'd feel clean again. Every time he closed his eyes, the past surged forward and sank into him, and he could feel the hot sun of Afghanistan pound down on bloodsoaked clothing, melded to his flesh in ways that hurt him just to contemplate removing.

He wasn't supposed to crash. He was supposed to be the one that saved them.

It was bitterness that would not be swallowed, that had scrabbled at him as he struggled in the sand and rocks, trying to stay hidden, trying to get to safety.

Trying to reach his friends.

He'd known God hated him when he came upon the girl, lying twisted and almost broken in the rubble of the bombing run they'd just finished; hated him like Suzy Thompkins did after he broke her heart and started dating her best friend. A fiery, never-going-to-give-you-peace hatred that would dog him forever. Sighing, he'd lifted her gently and began the long trek, ignoring the soft wet whimpers of pain coming from the bundle in his arms, trying not to acknowledge the smell of her (coppery blood mixed with burnt flesh and just a hint of shit to really make his stomach roil). Could feel things seep from her and slide down his own skin in ways that made it hard to keep her in his arms.

When he'd finally reached help, his knowledge of the language was just enough to understand how her words damned him. They were on him before he took ten steps.

John inhaled sharply and began to choke, coughing up water from the shower and shaking as he blinked at his surroundings. The smell of coppery blood was fresh in the air, and redness dripped on the cool tile from his fingers, his body, but the pain from his rent skin hadn't hit yet.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I fail to see why I'm here. There's nothing wrong with me." Rodney folded his arms and glared at Carson.

"Just taking a few readings, Rodney," Carson soothed. "The last mission seems to have...affected you all quite a bit." He hid the needle until it was too late.

"Ow! What the hell did you do that for?"

"Blood is helpful for a blood test, you know," Carson said.

"Are we done, here? Or do you need to stick me some more?"

Something in his tone made Carson pause, watching him. Finally he nodded, saying, "But if you feel anything at all out of the ordinary..."

He was talking to Rodney's back as the man bolted. "Goddamned vampire," he heard Rodney mutter.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Aiden stared at the wall, unseeing. God, he hadn't felt this bad since the funeral.

Since staring at his family (minus two), knowing that they blamed him. And why not? He certainly did.

Ungrateful. That's what he'd been. Spiteful. How many times had he told them, "I wish you'd die"?

If wishes were going to start coming true, why did they start with this one?

Aiden remembered coming home, still pissed off but not nearly as much, figuring that maybe now they could talk instead of scream at each other. Maybe his parents would listen and stop treating him like such a damned baby. He remembered how startled they'd looked when he left the house, slamming the door behind him. It was an hour past curfew, but if they'd only listen...

It had taken a while to realize that the red and blue spirals of light were coming from in front of his home. The warm, enveloping hug of his sobbing grandmother had done nothing to touch the ice that settled in his heart, because surely there was no way they'd still love him when they knew he was to blame for his parents' death.

After all, they never would have left the house if he hadn't run out into the night, would they?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Give me some good news, Carson," Elizabeth said, raggedly. All across the base, people were sniping at each other. Bursting into tears and acting irrationally. It was obvious to her that the shimmer she'd momentarily seen tied in with it, but how, she wasn't sure.

This was one problem she couldn't solve on her own.

"Wish I could, Elizabeth," Carson's distracted voice came to her from the comm. "Rodney's blood sample is all over the map. And there's practically no dopamine in it at all."

"Is that significant?"

"Well, it could go a long way toward explaining all the sunny moods round here, couldn't it?"

Since he couldn't see her, Elizabeth rolled her eyes, scowling. "We need definites, Carson, not maybes."

"Aye. I'm working on it," he said.

She sighed as she clicked off her comm. This was shaping up to be a very bad day.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rodney tapped at the keyboard, staring at the computer screen. "No, no, no," he muttered, pulling his hands away and pacing back and forth. He paused in front of the dry erase board and scribbled on it, then crossed off the line he'd just written and threw the marker across the room. "Goddamn it!"

The solution would not be found. It was music all over again, he mused, good but not good enough, and suddenly the only solace you had in a miserable life was being yanked away.

Because, good God, if you couldn't even make your soul heard when you did what you loved beyond measure, how could you even contemplate continuing?

He remembered the stab of pain so deep it took his breath away as his instructor told not him, but his parents. "Clinically, he's wonderful. But there's just no feeling in his playing. I'm afraid that's something that just can't be taught. It's something you either have, or you don't."

When his father discovered him burning the reams and reams of music scores, when he'd seen what Rodney had done to the piano, he'd beaten his son until he passed out.

Rodney found he wished he had that luxury now.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Jesus Christ!" Carson said as he got a whiff of Stackhouse's breath. "Where'd he get the alcohol?"

One of his nurses looked guilty. "Out with it, lad, I can tell you know," Carson said.

"There's a distillery. You can get some on the black market."

"What is it, 190 proof? Never mind, I guess we'll find out in the bloodtest. I wish I could figure out why the tox screens keep coming back like they've not seen rest for a week."

He scrubbed at his face and sank into a seat, feeling much that way himself.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Teyla shuddered and drew her knees up to her chest, eyes darting around her room. It was in the quiet times that she heard the voices loudest.

"Close your eyes and see," the soft voices urged. "See what will come to pass."

With every blink, she caught a flash of...something. Finally, unable to bear the snippets, she closed them and held them shut.

And watched as the Wraith came, walking proudly through Atlantis and feeding on everyone.

Everyone but her.

She stood frozen, a mute witness to the orgy of feeding that surrounded her. She could feel the surge of life as it flowed from person to Wraith, could feel the charge as though it danced along her body. Watched friends die and was powerless to stop it.

"You are not, you know," the many-layered voices told her, and she felt the words like a caress. "You could stop us at any time. You are the only one who could." She shuddered and felt the wall behind her as she scrambled against it, trying to escape the voice and the things she knew were true. "But if you did that, you could never become one of us."

Closing her eyes, Teyla saw Sheppard, Ford, McKay, and Weir sprawled out like so many discarded, broken toys. A small noise made its way past her throat, and she scrabbled to break free.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"You're sure." Disbelief colored Elizabeth's voice.

"No, Elizabeth, I'm not sure! But it's the best we've got to go on. The levels are the best in the ones who've been drinking; it's like...somehow it inhibits the effect. Simpson and Kavanagh think they've isolated a way to detect the entities. I'd offer another option, but quite frankly, I don't think we have the time."

"What do you mean, Carson?" Elizabeth asked. She chewed on another fingernail, her last one, feeling more and more frustrated.

"I've had some incidents of people harming themselves, some quite seriously. If we don't stop this now, we run the risk of permanent injury...or worse."

She sank wearily into her chair. "Do it, then. Who's going to volunteer as bait?"

"Dr. Kavanagh has offered. I see no reason to look any farther."

"Let's gather everyone here and get this thing going, then," Elizabeth said, firmly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

If it had been any other occasion, Elizabeth might have found it amusing. As it was, she knew the sight of all her coworkers, drunk as skunks in the gateroom, would haunt her nightmares. The feeling reminded her of the one and only time she got drunk off tequila; an underlying evilness permeated the alcoholic haze. She swallowed another gulp, ignoring the burning of the rotgut, and tried to focus on Dr. Kavanagh. He stood ramrod straight, ignoring everyone and staring at his datapad.

"Dr. Kavanagh!" Elizabeth called. He turned his attention to her, sour expression telling her that he wanted to be watching the readout. "When can you depart?"

Kavanagh clutched the bottle of homebrew tightly and looked once again at his datapad. "Now, I think," he said and nodded.

She punched the chevrons into the dialing device, using extra care to hit the right ones. The familiar kawoosh had never sounded so welcome, and when Kavanagh stepped through and it dissolved behind him, she sank to the ground in relief.

With luck, it would soon be over.

Gradually, the people around her started winding down. Frantic drunken activity started quieting, people dropping off to sleep or sighing before trudging back towards their quarters.

John dropped onto the floor beside her. "This seat taken?" John said wearily, and rubbed at his face.

"I think we made it," she told him.

"When Kavanagh returns alone, then we've made it," he said. "God, I'm sorry, Elizabeth. We should have realized—"

"Whatever those things were, John, they affected your judgment. You couldn't have predicted it."

"She's right, Major," Carson said, leaning on the back of a nearby chair. "Near as we can tell, those...creatures fed on us."

"Talk about sucking the happy right out of something," John muttered.

"You're probably not too far off, Major," Rodney said as he joined them. "It would make a fascinating study...if only the researchers didn't kill themselves."

They continued to stare in the direction of the stargate.

"...how long does it take Kavanagh to drink himself into a stupor, anyway?" Rodney murmured.

"Something tells me if anyone can make a simple task like getting drunk hard, it's that guy," John said, letting his head fall back. "God, I could sleep for a week."

"We get through this, and we can all take some time off," Elizabeth said, mostly to keep the conversation going.

As long as they could concentrate on that, they held the darkness at bay.

~fin~

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Fic! *loves* <3 *cuddles the characters* =(

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