[nano] Stained Glass Masquerade

[kittydesade]

She met with Dr. Heightmeyer.

"Do you not wonder where he gets his qualities from," she asked. "Which are learned from what he sees and how we treat them, and which he takes from how he was treated in his Wraith life."

Dr. Heightmeyer shook her head slightly. "I've never thought about it," she admitted. "He's assimilated quite well, actually. It's remarkable to look at him and think he was a Wraith at all."

"That is exactly what I mean, is there not any part of him that might be Wraith still? Perhaps his distress at not knowing his family, could that not come from the Wraith being a hive presence around him, and the loss of that presence."

It didn't look as though that had occurred to her. Dr. Heightmeyer frowned, and for a moment Teyla was heartened, until she saw the professional mask drop into place. Treating Teyla as a case to be talked out, not as though she was actually offering input or suggestions or just trying to talk out the thoughts that had been troubling her.

Teyla supposed, as she walked away from the doctor's office, that it was to be expected. She and Heightmeyer were certainly friendly, but they weren't exactly friends.

"He is settling in remarkably well," she offered, by way of a conversation opener or simply turning the conversation to the subject she wanted to talk about without, she hoped, being too terribly obvious.

"You think?" Sheppard stabbed the vegetable on his tray with more than the necessary force, Teyla thought. "Heh. He hasn't even attacked anyone yet, Ronon's done all the attacking, from what I hear."

Teyla looked up. Sheppard was giving her an inquisitive look, maybe trying to ascertain for himself that she was all right with what had happened. "Michael was unharmed. And he recovered well from the episode, and bears no grudge. On the contrary, he seems to want to apologize for whatever it is he did to offend Ronon. To make peace," she added, was a little bit of emphasis.

Sheppard didn't seem to understand her meaning. "Well, he can try, but I'm not sure Ronon wants to talk to him. Actually," he added. "I'm not sure Ronon wants to be in the same room with him."

Teyla sighed, leaning back in her chair and doing her best not to roll her eyes. "He is unwilling to see past what Michael has been to what he could be," she said, venting a little of her frustration. "Not that I can blame him for being angry, but..." and she wasn't sure how to express the rest of that thought.

"Man's carrying a lot of baggage where the Wraith are concerned."

She understood Sheppard's meaning, even if the words were unfamiliar. But she hadn't meant talk about Ronon, and they were getting sidetracked. "Perhaps he will learn, in time, to accept Michael at least. And perhaps..." she slowed her words and tried to take care in what she spoke. "Later, if Michael continues to show great progress, we can explain to him what has happened."

Sheppard sat straight up and stared at her as though she had turned purple and started dancing on the table tops. "Are you insane? Tell Michael he's a Wraith, if he doesn't try to kill us all after that, he'll probably have some kind of mental breakdown or something."

"I don't mean to say we should tell him everything that has happened to him," she hastened to add, except that that was exactly what she meant. And before the conversation had even reached the halfway point she knew that she could not discuss her ambivalence with Sheppard. "I only mean." Teyla swallowed. "I think the longer we go on, the harder it will be when he finally discovers the truth."

"Then we'd better make sure he doesn't discover the truth, hadn't we?"

There had been no need for him to take that tone, really, Teyla thought. But it left her with very few people to go to. McKay was certainly not the person to whom she would bring this sort of problem. Weir seem to have enough on her hands where Michael was concerned. Which left only one person that she could think of. And she decided to start with the truth this time.

"I do not know how much longer I will be able to keep up this façade."

Dr. Beckett looked at her with more than a little concerned. "Has he said anything? Has he done anything to try to hurt you?"

"No, no. It is nothing like that." The poor man. She laid a hand on his arm, trying to calm him down. He still looked exhausted. "It is simply that I am having some..." what was the phrase? "It is a question of conscience."

"Of conscience?"

Teyla sighed. "I should not have said anything," she half-apologized, turning to go. And now it was Beckett's turn to lay his hand to her arm and stop her.

"No, please." He gestured to an empty chair. "To tell the truth, I've been wrestling with some questions of conscience of my own these past few days."

She breathed a sigh of relief as she sank back into the chair he offered. "I do not know how much more of this I can do, and keep silent. He trusts us. And what have we ever done to earn that trust?"

Beckett looked a little uncomfortable at what she was saying, but he didn't say anything to disagree. "In almost every medical aspect, he is human. I took an oath to first do no harm, but how does that apply to the Wraith?"

She had heard of such a thing, but she had never discussed such matters with Beckett. And now she found it had piqued her curiosity, at least for this situation was concerned, the moment. "Does your oath to do no harm supersede your obligation to your commander?"

"It supersedes all other oaths, at least according to acceptable medical ethics on our planet."

Teyla wanted to ask where that left the experiment with Michael, but Beckett was already clearly worrying himself over that, and she didn't feel the need to add to his burden. "He believes that we are telling him the truth. That we are doing what is best for him, that we are helping him. I feel..."

"As though you are doing something very, very wrong?"

Teyla nodded. At least she was not alone in that, and the relief sent her slumping forward, head into her hands.