Secrets - Act 2: XVIII

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CHAPTER XVIII

The concept of Pictionary was easy enough to explain to their Pegasus native teammates, and thankfully didn’t take very long. Draw clues to guess a word without actual words. AR1 sat in a small circle on the floor between John’s bed and the door. John leaned against his bed, Rodney was sitting to his left, Ronon was to his right and Teyla sat crisscross between Rodney and Ronon.

So they wouldn’t have a drastic advantage over each other, and they might be able to assist their teammates discreetly, they split into two teams: Teyla and Rodney, and John and Ronon. John knew it would be pointless though. Last time he played pictionary, he got stumped by ‘Llama’. Granted, his teammate at the time drew a Lamp and a Mom with a child, so John wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to divulge from that in the first place.

He had a feeling he and Rodney would be carrying their teams, and to be honest, that was not an appealing idea. Teyla and Ronon only had a basic knowledge of Earth culture just based on what they’ve learned the last couple years.

The game starts out poorly, but for the second round, they get ‘sword’ and that’s a fairly universal concept. ‘Flambe’ was after and, as expected, neither team got that one.

Rodney pulled a card and leaned over to discreetly show John. Sheppard frowned, knowing that neither of their teammates will get it. John barely gets it, but the scientist turns the minute glass over, grabs his marker and starts doodling. John puts his marker to the small white board and starts drawing as well. But, he’s no Evan Lorne (who he’s caught doodling in their shared office while the Major waits for him to finish overdue paperwork) and Ronon literally has no idea what he’s drawing. John just shrugs helplessly because he really can’t remember what just what ‘pointe shoes’ are anyway. He guesses he’s been away from Earth too long, or he didn’t care enough in the first place.

Rodney seems to have a better idea, just based on the confidence he has while drawing. John knows (vaguely) what the prompt is, and he still has no idea what McKay’s drawing. John stops drawing, tilts his head to one side, and squints a little bit. It doesn’t produce a clearer image.

Is that a dancing traffic cone?

He tilts his head to other side, but it still looks the same.

Rodney catches him looking, “Hey! No cheating!” and turns his white board a bit, but John can still see it. “I’m done, McKay. Besides, I have no idea what you’re drawing.”

McKay scoffs, holding his drawing up proudly, “It’s clearly a dancer in a tutu.”
John studied the image Rodney produced for a moment, “...is that what that is?” Rodney looked suitably offended and dropped the whiteboard into his lap. “Fine.” McKay looked around the room and sees Sheppard’s deck of cards on the dresser behind him. “You know what?” He held the deck up and obnoxiously stated, “How about ‘Go Fish’. Hm?”

John stares at him blankly for a moment before snatching his deck from Rodney’s hand and tossing it onto his pillow. He’ll probably play a quiet game of solitare after this. He’ll need it.

“Why can’t we just draw stuff from Pegasus?” Ronon asked.
Rodney scoffs, “Please,” and folds his arms. “I have better uses for my vastly superior intellect than to redesign a children’s game.”

“You know what, Chewie,” John shot McKay a wry grin, “I like that idea.”
Teyla jumped in as well, “I agree. The cards should be fixed for Pegasus and Atlantis.” McKay grumbled at being overruled and how he had much better things to do, and John smiled broadly.

A couple hours later and the team had a sizable collection of Pegasus galaxy friendly cards. Most of the snacks were gone, and John’s beer too. Some ideas were easy to think of: Wraith, Stargate, Atlantis, Ancients, ZPM, Puddlejumper. The other, more mundane ones weren’t so easy, but they sloshed through and were about halfway through their 150 card goal.

Ronon and McKay were arguing over the doritos (Rodney was hogging them) and the Satedan reached across the Pictionary board to steal them. The scientist squawked and leaned back to keep them out of Ronon’s reach. Which worked until Ronon got up and grabbed the bag from Rodney who’d fallen over in his haste to get away.

Ronon sat back down and started munching happily on his newly acquired chips. He offered some to Teyla... John tuned them out.

His mind wasn’t really there. It was on the people around him, or rather his own actions toward the people around him. John twisted on the marker in his hands and furrowed his brows. Why couldn’t he just tell them? They already knew some of what he was going through, Teyla especially. She was part Wraith for God’s sake. They were his team… his family.

He’d been a jerk the last few days, ignoring them and pushing everyone away, but they weren’t treating him any different.

Why?

He didn’t notice the others stop their conversation and turn their eyes on him. “Sheppard.” John jerked his head up to look at Ronon.

“You okay?” McKay asked. “We said your name a bunch.”

John winced, “Sorry. I…” he huffed and looked down at the marker in his hand. He wasn’t good at this... talking stuff. He had said as much to Teyla -- well… she had inferred.

“Look guys,” John started, still not looked at them, “I’m sorry... for the way I’ve been acting.”
“You have no reason to apologize.” But John shook his head at Teyla’s words. “Yes, I do.” He raised his hand to quiet McKay. “I’ve been a jerk to just about everyone, and you guys don’t deserve that. And thanks…” He gestured to the unfinished new and improved Pictionary: Pegasus Edition. “For this.” He didn’t mean the game itself, of course, but them trying to cheer him up.

“Depends if it worked.”

John huffed a laugh at Ronon’s lack of subtlety, “Yeah, Buddy. It did, a bit.”

“Look,” Rodney started, “This, I mean, we--” John waited patiently for his friend to force out what he was trying to say. “What I mean to say is: you’re still you. And we’re, you know, your team. We’re with you, no matter what.”

McKay’s words meant more to John than his team probably knew, and it was odd to hear anything but sarcasm and narcissism come out of his mouth. “Thanks,” he said genuinely. But that one word just didn’t convey his true gratitude. He wasn’t sure what would.

Rodney was right about one thing: they were a team. Team means family, and to John, family meant so much more than just sharing blood. It meant trusting each other, and not judging faults. And offering forgiveness when one of them does something stupid. Being there.

Family is one thing John has been lacking for quite a while.

John wanted to tell them what was going on in his head. But he didn’t quite know how to put his feelings into words, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to do that just yet. He knew keeping this stuff bottled up wasn’t a good idea, as his hand could attest to. He rubbed the injured knuckle absentmindedly.

This was his family, but… “I… need more time, guys. I need to work this out on my own first. But...” he took a breath, “when I’m ready…”

“We will be here.” He looked up at Teyla, and then to the rest of his team, a small smile on his lips.

Rodney’s words bounced around his head: You’re still you. Maybe he was right… maybe John would come out of this on top and better for it. But right now… he wasn’t sure. He didn’t feel like himself, and the fear that this would change him more dramatically later was terrifying.

Images of his time as a half-bug-man flashed in his brain and he pushed them back. This wasn’t like that… but no matter how much he told himself that, that fear was lurking behind every corner. Waiting to pounce.

He shook these thoughts from his mind and turned his focus back to their project. He took a deep breath, forced a smile and uncapped his marker.

“Where were we?”

Terrance rubbed his eyes tiredly. He’d been sitting here for too long looking for something that probably wasn’t here. He peered at the Terran computer screen once more, reading the Ancient text carefully. Something wasn’t adding up with Colonel Sheppard’s case. As he’d told Weir and the others days ago, there was nothing physically wrong with him. And as they’d told him, this started after walking through a seemingly harmless energy barrier.

He leaned back in his chair, trying to work the facts out in his mind.

John’s seros system started developing first. He’d been sick several weeks ago, a seemingly random, but harmless illness. In Alteran children, when their seros system starts to function, their natural immune system is temporarily weakened. This leaves them open to illness while their bodies adjust to a new form of defense, it only lasts a few days. Afterward, their natural immune system begins to function in tandem with their seros system, making them very resilient to common illnesses. Not to mention being able to heal injuries quickly.

His mind, however, was where he was having issues. Carson had said he’d been having headaches for several days before the first episode. That implied that the process within his mind had already begun. It was possible that his telepathy had begun earlier, as the first few weeks would be painless. Alteran children were sensitive to their parents before birth, forming a close bond with the mother while in the womb.

Sometimes they would form a loose bond with their father as well, but this was less common. After birth, the part of the brain that controls their telepathy would continue to slowly develop until 15-20 years of age. It was impossible to tell the point at which John’s had ceased development. It could have been days after he was born, or it could have been weeks or months. Regardless, it was developing normally now, but quickly.

Terrance estimated his telepathy would be fully developed less than a month from now.

His genemoria posed the largest questions.

Terrance had next to no knowledge of the process of development; no clues as to when individuals would start showing signs of this trait, or how to control it. He’d hoped there would be more information here than there was within the medical archives on Arcadia, but that was not the case.

According to the archives on his homeworld, the trait died out shortly after their arrival on the planet - within two hundred years. That implied that at least one genemoria carrier had lived on Arcadia. Terrance did not know who this individual was, or if they had any children. He did know the trait could skip a few generations at a time, and only the first born ever showed signs of it.

He did find it odd that the trait was linked specifically to the first born child. Male or female didn’t matter, but the second or third child never showed signs of the trait.

Worse than the utter lack of useful information, it seemed that control of genemoria was taught solely by word of mouth. He’d found a journal entry that stated as much. A proud father’s notes on his daughter’s progress controlling her genemoria. The envy of her younger brother. But no actual information that Terrance could use to help John.

And there was absolutely nothing, no mention at all, of a genemoria carrier falling into a coma, experiencing seizures and retreating into his own mind like John had.

It was incredibly frustrating.

“Yer up late.”

The human doctor’s voice shook Terrance from his deep thought, surprising him. He hadn’t even sensed his approach. “As are you,” Terrance replied, as Carson walked up to join him.
“Aye,” Carson said, exhaustion lacing his voice, “Last minute reports fer the check in with Earth tomorrow.” The doctor looked at the computer screen, “Still looking for information?”

He nodded, “Etium. But I don’t believe I’ll find anything of use. Hardly any useful information was documented, which I find very odd.” Their people were scientists, like many of Carson’s people. Nothing was left undocumented… unless someone didn’t want it to be discovered for whatever reason. That reason though, was a mystery.

He turned his head to look at Carson, “Are you sure the field on 556 was harmless?”
“Aye. Ronon walked righ’ through it before the Colonel.”
The Alteran was quiet for a moment, “And the area was searched for any cause?”
Carson nodded, “Doctor McKay led the team himself.”

Terrance huffed, shook his head, and looked at Carson again, “Something on that planet either caused the problem, or expedited it. I’m going to need to go there myself.” He stifled an unexpected yawn, “Tomorrow.”

Carson agreed, and the two left the infirmary fully intent on retiring to their own beds for some much needed sleep.

-TBC