[nano] Stained Glass Masquerade
Nov. 1st, 2007 07:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeWord Count: 872 words
All the little sounds of the station faded into a blur of white noise. Breathe.
Legs crossed, shoulders relaxed, Teyla kept her eyes closed and her body still, the hammering of her heart in her chest. They had discussed it over and over again, they had argued about it, and none of them had come to any personal conclusion about the experiment, she thought. The official conclusion was that it would proceed as planned, from the moment it had begun with the capture...
Something crashed. Teyla opened her eyes, took another couple of breaths, and started again.
The experiment would proceed as it had been planned out. The decision had been made, there was nothing further for her to do until she was called upon to play her part. Deep breath. In, out, in again.
Her nerves calmed but it did nothing for peace of mind. The whole experiment seemed uncanny and unnatural. Turning a human into a Wraith had seemed unthinkable until Sheppard had been attacked by the Iratus bug, and now they were turning a Wraith into a human. And was that unthinkable? It was happening, so, clearly not. And yet a part of her still claimed vehemently that it should have been.
What would happen when it awoke? Would it remember? Would it know where it was and who? Or would they be able to mold it into their own image of a soldier, and thinking about it in those terms made Teyla shy away from the rest of that thought. It was even possible that it would not be able to survive the experience, that it would die for lack of nourishment or out of some other medical difficulty that Dr. Beckett had not foreseen. Teyla almost hoped for that. It would make everything so much more simple.
No, she chided herself. That was not the way to think about another living being, even a Wraith.
But how was she to think of it? She found it difficult to think of it, now, as anything but a Wraith. She thought that might change once they saw what their experiments had wrought. Maybe. She hoped. It would make it very difficult if they had worked so hard, if they continued, and it was still a Wraith.
It. She had to stop thinking of it as it. It was a he. It was a male of its species, soon to be for all intents and purposes a male of her species.
Which, she admitted with a small smile to herself, could be difficult all on their own. Would he survive to be that difficult, in those ordinary ways?
The cheerful little chirp broke her concentration, not that she had much of it in the first place. Teyla sighed, going over to the communicator. "Yes?"
"He's awake."
Sheppard. Of course, he would've been the first to have been notified when the Wraith awoke. Teyla shook her head, wondering how that meeting had gone. "I'll be right there."
No one had specified the order in which the meetings were to take place, although she had hoped to be somewhat at the head of the group. Heightmeyer treated everyone with the same sort of distant compassion, and Sheppard was a professional and a soldier whose ability to maintain calm was not in question. But Dr. Beckett was a physician of medicine, not highly experimental research, and everyone had agreed that Ronon was to stay far away until the Wraith was released. She ran over the scenarios that she thought would greet her, in her mind.
There would be soldiers there, if not on the inside of the room itself than surely standing post at the outside of the doors. Dr. Beckett might be there, or might be watching from the observation deck. Perhaps Sheppard would insist on accompanying her. Teyla smiled a little at that thought; he could be quite protective.
But for all that, he didn't seem to be there when she entered the observation deck. Beckett was sitting at his computer, most likely typing up the notes from whatever conversation had resulted from the man's awakening.
"I heard he was awake."
Dr. Beckett agreed. "Complete amnesia, he doesn't remember a thing."
And that was a good thing, wasn't it? She moved over to the window, looking down at the young man on the bed. The very young man, somehow younger than she had expected. Perhaps it was the white hair simulating age, but she had expected him to be older. More tired, less vital. Even sitting up in the bed he exuded a kind of powerful restlessness.
"May I speak with him?" She asked, turning back to look at Beckett.
"Of course."
Teyla started to go, and then frowned. He looked exhausted, at the end of his strength, emotionally if not physically. "You need to rest," she told him. If Weir had not, which Teyla then thought she had. And Beckett likely had not listened.
Indeed, this time, he only nodded. Teyla shook her head slightly, flashed him a rueful smile that knew well the impulse to push oneself beyond one's capabilities if only because there was work that absolutely needed to be done.
There were, indeed, guards outside the door.
[Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
age for the title!]
All the little sounds of the station faded into a blur of white noise. Breathe.
Legs crossed, shoulders relaxed, Teyla kept her eyes closed and her body still, the hammering of her heart in her chest. They had discussed it over and over again, they had argued about it, and none of them had come to any personal conclusion about the experiment, she thought. The official conclusion was that it would proceed as planned, from the moment it had begun with the capture...
Something crashed. Teyla opened her eyes, took another couple of breaths, and started again.
The experiment would proceed as it had been planned out. The decision had been made, there was nothing further for her to do until she was called upon to play her part. Deep breath. In, out, in again.
Her nerves calmed but it did nothing for peace of mind. The whole experiment seemed uncanny and unnatural. Turning a human into a Wraith had seemed unthinkable until Sheppard had been attacked by the Iratus bug, and now they were turning a Wraith into a human. And was that unthinkable? It was happening, so, clearly not. And yet a part of her still claimed vehemently that it should have been.
What would happen when it awoke? Would it remember? Would it know where it was and who? Or would they be able to mold it into their own image of a soldier, and thinking about it in those terms made Teyla shy away from the rest of that thought. It was even possible that it would not be able to survive the experience, that it would die for lack of nourishment or out of some other medical difficulty that Dr. Beckett had not foreseen. Teyla almost hoped for that. It would make everything so much more simple.
No, she chided herself. That was not the way to think about another living being, even a Wraith.
But how was she to think of it? She found it difficult to think of it, now, as anything but a Wraith. She thought that might change once they saw what their experiments had wrought. Maybe. She hoped. It would make it very difficult if they had worked so hard, if they continued, and it was still a Wraith.
It. She had to stop thinking of it as it. It was a he. It was a male of its species, soon to be for all intents and purposes a male of her species.
Which, she admitted with a small smile to herself, could be difficult all on their own. Would he survive to be that difficult, in those ordinary ways?
The cheerful little chirp broke her concentration, not that she had much of it in the first place. Teyla sighed, going over to the communicator. "Yes?"
"He's awake."
Sheppard. Of course, he would've been the first to have been notified when the Wraith awoke. Teyla shook her head, wondering how that meeting had gone. "I'll be right there."
No one had specified the order in which the meetings were to take place, although she had hoped to be somewhat at the head of the group. Heightmeyer treated everyone with the same sort of distant compassion, and Sheppard was a professional and a soldier whose ability to maintain calm was not in question. But Dr. Beckett was a physician of medicine, not highly experimental research, and everyone had agreed that Ronon was to stay far away until the Wraith was released. She ran over the scenarios that she thought would greet her, in her mind.
There would be soldiers there, if not on the inside of the room itself than surely standing post at the outside of the doors. Dr. Beckett might be there, or might be watching from the observation deck. Perhaps Sheppard would insist on accompanying her. Teyla smiled a little at that thought; he could be quite protective.
But for all that, he didn't seem to be there when she entered the observation deck. Beckett was sitting at his computer, most likely typing up the notes from whatever conversation had resulted from the man's awakening.
"I heard he was awake."
Dr. Beckett agreed. "Complete amnesia, he doesn't remember a thing."
And that was a good thing, wasn't it? She moved over to the window, looking down at the young man on the bed. The very young man, somehow younger than she had expected. Perhaps it was the white hair simulating age, but she had expected him to be older. More tired, less vital. Even sitting up in the bed he exuded a kind of powerful restlessness.
"May I speak with him?" She asked, turning back to look at Beckett.
"Of course."
Teyla started to go, and then frowned. He looked exhausted, at the end of his strength, emotionally if not physically. "You need to rest," she told him. If Weir had not, which Teyla then thought she had. And Beckett likely had not listened.
Indeed, this time, he only nodded. Teyla shook her head slightly, flashed him a rueful smile that knew well the impulse to push oneself beyond one's capabilities if only because there was work that absolutely needed to be done.
There were, indeed, guards outside the door.
[Many thanks to
age for the title!]