Not Another Chair Story
Story 3 - Carson's List of Things to Worry About
Written 2009-present.
Midnight on Atlantis. Observed only by insomniacs, worried scientists and anyone else who woke abruptly with the nagging feeling that they'd misplaced some vital part of themselves while they were dreaming. Carson Beckett wasn't sure which category he belonged to, or if he should create one for himself. Sleep-deprived father, possibly.
Standing on the balcony of his quarters, he felt alone in the dim glow of two failing moons. The quiet protest passing the lips of the baby in his arms drew his attention down. Carson smiled at his daughter, cradling her against his chest.
"Do ye fancy a bedtime story?" he asked. "Or should I just sing ye to sleep?"
Meredith blinked indifferently.
"Aye, yer right. This is nice for us, isn't it, just us two having a chat. Yer still young enough to listen to me, but as soon as tomorrow ye'll be chasing boys and not standing still long enough for me to give ye a kiss."
Carson pressed his lips to her forehead and drew away smiling. Her eyes had closed and her breathing slowed to deep, chesty breaths.
"I thought you said you were too buggered to take baby duty tonight?" a voice teased from behind.
Turning and holding a finger to his lips, Carson dropped his hand and smiled at his wife. "Well now, how could I disappoint the lass after coming to her rescue every other night?"
"What about me?" pouted Nena. "Don't tell me you've forgotten all about me."
"How could I do that, love? I'd sooner board a hive ship than risk yer wrath."
"You'd better kiss me then, Carsie-buns."
Shifting Meredith into one arm, Carson wound his other around Nena, nuzzling the size of her face. The entity of Atlantis leaned back just before their lips met. She tutted. "And do you go around kissing just anyone? I hear you're popular with all the human women."
"Now, love, that business with Lieutenant Cadman…" Beckett stopped and blushed. "It wasn't my fault, ye know. The lass was acting that way because it might not have worked…"
"Everyone knows that. But does your wife?"
Carson snorted and snatched the kiss from her. He was silently grateful to any cosmic power in the universe that Nena had not taken it the wrong way. Much as the doctor had been worried for his best friend (not that Rodney ever needed to be made aware of that title) recovering from the dart-induced schizophrenia, he'd sat in the infirmary to make sure that Nena didn't swoop in and exact her particular brand of vengeance on Cadman.
He'd fallen asleep on that duty and woken up to witness Nena and Laura holding mugs of infirmary-grade coffee – which was a rather exceptional brew, if Carson did say so himself. The two women had been trading giggly whispers in the corner and eating their way through a bag of Butterfingers. Since then, Carson had not worried too much and carried the hope that Nena had finally outgrown the need to jealously guard her husband.
Mind you, he wouldn't say no to her locking Dr Biro something dark and scary for a few days.
"I'll put Meredith to bed," Nena murmured into the corner of his lips.
"Oh? What reason would there be for that? She'll just be awake in an hour or so. Ye know it."
Nena pulled back, scooping her daughter into her arms. She laughed and shook her head. "That's not your problem tonight. You need sleep, my love."
The two most important women in Carson's life shimmered into thin air. He leaned back against the railing, arms folded behind him, smiling into the empty doorway on the balcony. After a moment, he walked into his quarters and collapsed onto the bed, stomach first. Face buried in the pillow, he considered disappearing away to virtu-Atlantis.
"Too bloody tired," he mumbled and went straight to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Nice of you to join us," John Sheppard greeted slyly from his chair.
Carson pulled a face and settled himself between Elizabeth and Ronon. He hadn't meant to oversleep and he certainly hadn't expected his wife to switch off his alarm. Just another bit of daily mayhem, he supposed.
"Hullo there, John," he returned. "I don't suppose ye've taken lessons in manners from Rodney?"
Lt. Colonel Sheppard propped up a knee against the table, titling back his chair. He offered a crooked grin before giving a sweeping gesture towards the doctor's end of the table. He brought a finger back to his lips and made a quiet shhhing noise. Dr McKay rolled his eyes. "Are you in primary school?"
"You didn't raise your hand," John said.
Ronon cleared his throat. "Are we supposed to?"
"No," Teyla answered, resting her hands on the table. "That practice is for those of us who have not yet reached adulthood."
John stared at her. His mouth slowly opened, then snapped shut. He laughed and threw his hand up in the air, jerking it around insistently. After a few seconds of fighting it, Elizabeth allowed her smile to dart over her face before masking it by covering her mouth with well-placed fingers that hopefully made her look pensive.
"What is it, John?" she acknowledged.
He dropped his hand. "Since this is going to be Ronon's first mission with the team, don't you think we should do something a little special?"
Dr Weir let her brow fall to the bridge of her hand and said nothing.
"Colonel," warned Teyla.
Ronon looked unconcerned, linking his hands behind his head. His armour pulled tight with this action, though didn't make a sound despite the type of material. He glanced around the silent table. "Are we going to do this thing or what?"
"Actually, before we get to the briefing, there's one thing we need to do," Elizabeth informed them all. "Carson?"
Beckett scrunched back the sleeves of his dark jacket to his elbows and said, "Thank ye, love. As I'm sure ye know, there's plenty of times when teams are stranded or lost, so it would come in handy if we could touch a button and know where ye are. Nena says there's a way to fashion an insertable ship that can relay your position straight to the sensors, no matter where in the galaxy ye happen to be."
"Great, when do we get them?" John asked.
"It will take a wee bit of time and some adjustments but – "
A heavy fist slammed onto the table, making Elizabeth's paper bounce a few inches off course. Rodney scooped up his coffee and held it protectively away from the table. Ronon Dex snarled, "Any man who comes near me with that chip thing is going to wish they were born without extremities."
Awkward silence ensued. Staring down into his lap, Carson swallowed. "That's well enough. I'm not saying ye have to use it. It's just something to think about."
"It's been thought about enough," Ronon said in a low voice.
Sheppard coughed loudly into the back of his hand. "Oookay, next topic for discussion."
"I won't disagree there," Elizabeth said. "The planet doesn't appear to be inhabited, though there are catacombs that the team before you discovered. This isn't a dangerous mission – that we know of – but don't think of it as a routine check-up."
Rodney crossed his arms. "Couldn't you give us something a little more important than sloppy seconds?"
His expression turned from sour to indignant, as he leaped of his chair and rubbed his shin. Glaring across the table at the most likely suspects to have kicked him, the scientist finally settled on the Satedan.
"You were disrespecting your superior by questioning orders," Ronon said by way of explanation. "And next time, keep your feet on your side. Or you'll probably lose them."
Beckett looked sideways at him. "Are ye always this friendly?"
Ronon gave him a feral grin in return.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Walking through the control room, Carson had to stop. Something seemed out of place. He scanned the room with the sensors, finding two other people in the room with him. Chuck was on duty by the Ancient DHD, nodding his head frequently with telltale white earphones in his ears. He even strummed an invisible guitar.
Carson got to his knees and peeked under the console. He found Radek Zelenka curled up in a ball, snoring quietly as he slept. Bemused, the CMO stood up and patted Chuck on the shoulder.
"There's no incoming wormhole!" Chuck shouted.
Flicking the earphones out of Chuck's ears, Carson said, "Yes, thank ye son, I'm aware of that. Do ye happen to know why Radek is asleep here?"
The Canadian's eyes darted down to Zelenka, a smirk writing its way across his face. He waggled two fingers at Carson, indicating that he should move in closer. When the doctor was in position, Chuck explained in a hushed whisper, "No one's buying his chocolate stash anymore. They say there's a new player in the market. I don't know who it is, but they are way cheaper than Dr Zelenka. The stress is getting to him."
"Are ye saying that after a Wraith siege and countless other things to worry about…" Carson began slowly. "...Radek has finally lost it over some chocolate?"
"Yep. Makes you wonder, though. Has to be someone with real balls to take down Zelenka's empire like that."
"Or just common sense, perhaps."
Carson cast one last sympathetic look down at his friend before leaving the control room. He had learnt over his time on Atlantis that it was better to let scientists sleep where they had fallen, rather than risk a caffeine-deprived diatribe thrown into his face. This was an important lesson he'd yet to pass on to the newer doctors in his infirmary; a group of too young and too uptight graduates with a preference for 9-to-5 work than graveyard shifts.
Thinking about them made him feel old and nervous.
I'll not die as long as I'm here, Carson reminded himself.
It shocked him that the words came so easily to his mind.
"Damn it," he murmured out loud.
Yet another thing to worry about. He didn't dare approach Nena about his current concerns. It was too easy a crutch to pass off his fear of death. He feared for Meredith. He feared outliving his friends.
Admittedly, this is not a problem that many humans must face in any lifetime. But for Carson Beckett, who wasn't even sure if he was human anymore, it was a troubling thought.
Rodney McKay, on another planet, decided that to be human was to suffer the errors of others. His main problem was falling down a seven foot hole with only three ration bars. This would soon enough be added to Carson's List of Things To Worry About.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first thing that Dr Beckett noticed upon arriving on the alien planet was that a lot of the trees seemed to be blue or purple. The second thing to grab his attention was John and Teyla waiting a little way down the path from the Stargate, casually talking with their weapons holstered. Stumbling over the odd rock or two in the path and lugging a medical case, as well as a coil of rope around his shoulder, Carson had expected a little more mayhem and a lot more of a pain in the neck.
"Alright then, what seems to be the emergency?" he asked.
Sheppard lifted a hand in greeting. "Rodney's stuck in a hole."
"Our attempts to guide him out have been…" Teyla hesitated. "...met with some resistance."
"I brought some rope, as ordered. What do you mean resistance?"
They began walking through the trees, leaving the patchy but safer path. John kept ahead, slashing branches out of the way with his hands and forcing Carson to duck behind him. Teyla brought up the rear. They'd gone a few metres before John explained, "He keeps insisting that he's broken something. He's blaming Ronon for walking in front of and distracting him at a crucial moment."
"Rodney did not see the hole until it was too late," the Athosian added.
Carson smiled briefly. "And where is Ronon at the moment?"
"Oh we left him with Rodney," John replied, unconcerned. "They need a bit of team bonding and Ronon's going to have to get used to him sometime."
"Oh my God."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Go fish!" challenged Evan Lorne.
The head of in-house security of Atlantis peeked over the edge of his cards, before lowering so that his forehead was all that his opponent could see. Finally, Bates set his fingertips on the desk between them, forcing them inch by inch across the lacquered surface until they touched the tip of the card pile. He snapped up the top card and sliced it in between the cards he held in his hand. Lorne nodded his head several times, smiling, before saying, "Any fives?"
"Go…" Bates curled his lip. "Go fuc – "
A loud, fast and bedraggled scientist burst into the room. This kind of thing didn't usually happen to Bates, though it had happened once to Lorne, with exactly the same person. Dr Radek Zelenka held up a finger to silence them and continued tumbling out words and vague obscenities. Lorne and Bates exchanged resigned glances.
"This is a matter of great importance to the security of Atlantis!" finished Zelenka, flicking a hand through the mop of his hair that had settled across his glasses.
Sergeant Bates threw down his cards rather quickly. "We're all ears, Doctor."
Evan's eyebrows crept up towards his hairline and he shook his head. Sore loser that one. He gathered up the cards and wound an elastic band over the set. He kicked the chair beside him out so that there was enough room for Radek to plonk down onto it. And plonk down he did. Coaxing his glasses from his eyes, revealing dark shadows and fine lines of stress, Zelenka flopped back against the chair.
"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the chocolate thing?" Lorne asked.
Radek nodded hastily. "Ano, yes, it has everything to do with it. While I had control of the market, we could be assured of where the, ah, items in questions were coming from. Guaranteed source. But this new threat could spell disaster for the expedition!"
"Believe me, I'd like to take any threat seriously," Bates said. "But Dr Weir has made it very clear that my position here is one of grace, and that any resources I ask to use in investigations must go through her first."
"We could...make informal inquiries to the usual suspects," Evan suggested.
"Case out known places of trade…pick-up points and customers…"
"Then when we close in, what, let Zelenka have a monopoly on the trade?"
"You were the one who said we should make inquiries."
"Is this a serious threat though?"
"We could make it one."
"I get your thinking there."
Zelenka squirmed forward in the chair to regard them closely, squinting until he realised he should put his glasses back on. Once restored to the world of sight, the scientist's eyes widened. Then narrowed. Then widened again. His mouth soon followed.
"You know, you two are slightly scary," he observed.
Lorne rested his hand over the gun sitting across his lap and demanded, "Do you want us to check this out or not?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Carson stood on the rim of the hole and almost lurched forward as he lowered his gaze down, down into the dark shaft awaiting him. The trees surrounding them swayed and moaned as an unsettled breeze wafted through the woods, though failing to topple the gelled perfection that was Dr Beckett's hair this particular day. It certainly looked a good deal better than whatever John was trying to pull off.
"Rodney?" he called down.
"Thank God, finally someone who knows what they're doing!" bounced back up with a slight echo.
Carson closed his eyes in relief. "Glad to see yer still responsive. I've brought a rope – are ye able to use yer hands?"
"I can't move my fingers and I think that's bad, isn't bad isn't? I'll have to relay everything through Zelenka and he couldn't even be a typist for someone with a monosyllabic vocabulary. I can't do that!"
"Alright, we get the picture," Carson told him flatly. "I'll come down myself."
A few minutes later, with the rope tied through carabiners secured to a harness, Carson was ready to make the descent. He warily handed over the end of the rope to Ronon.
"I haven't dropped anyone," Dex said seriously. "Yet."
The CMO turned away to hide his expression, which he suspected was a cross between grim humour and appalled fear. Despite himself, he snuck a look back over his shoulder. Ronon's smirk was enough for him. John offered to also hold the rope, but was dissuaded rather forcefully when Ronon dug fingers into his chest and shoved him away.
"Wookiee life debts," John muttered aside to Teyla.
Teyla angled her quizzical frown at him and shook her head briefly. Her CO shrugged with one side of his lips crinkling his cheek in response. Men will be men, especially in other galaxies, though John would never have said such a thing in front of anyone from the US military. He had an image to uphold.
Carson wove his tongue around his teeth as he was carefully lowered down into the hole. It wasn't a tight fit, though he would certainly have felt more comfortable in something a little wider. A flash of light blinded him and quite abruptly his feet then backside grazed rocks and soil. Confused, he unbuckled himself from the rope, turning his head side to side. His eyes landed on Rodney who was standing upright in a passageway supported by wooden beams. The scientist was busily tapping his fingers over a door of what looked to be Lantean design.
"I'm close to leaving ye down here," Carson threatened. "I was worried ye might be hurt, but what are ye doing? Passing the time quite comfortably, I see."
He tapped his radio but static growled back at him. Sloping back onto his elbows, Carson yelled up, "He's fine! I'm not sure I'll bring him up in one piece at this rate."
"It would probably be easier to bury him down there, Beckett," Ronon supplied.
Rodney marched back towards the hole. "I'm right here you know! And I can hear everything you're saying or even thinking of saying. I brought Carson here for a reason. There's an Ancient laboratory down here – or at least I think it is, I've never really had much patience for this kind of translating thing – and it's not responding to any command prompts I put into the power relay."
"It's not that simple, Rodney - I'm not exactly compatible with all sorts of technology!"
"Well, you're the best idea I've had."
A request to be pulled back up dried on Carson's tongue when he focused on the door. Innate buzzing multiplied into a head-splitting wail. Clapping his hands over his ears, he stood up and raced over. Whipping his eyes over the text and finding only nonsense, he reluctantly took his hands from his head and rested them over the control panel beside the door. Something tugged from his stomach, almost pulling him flush against the wall of dirt.
"Rodney, I'm not...not feeling so well - " Carson started then fell through the gap in the wall that swiftly closed over once he'd disappeared.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nena offered a beaming smile at Sergeant Bates as he passed in the corridor. He immediately wheeled around and shuffled his feet to match his stride to hers. Meredith, who was riding in a pouch on her mother's front, regarded him with one open eye, mouth opening into a yawn.
"I need to ask you something, m'am," he said smoothly.
"Donald!" Nena exclaimed. "I was just on my way to the mess hall. You can join me if you want – and why are you looking so down?"
Bates shot a concerned look around the general vicinity, but luckily no one had heard her address him by his mysterious first name. He tried to keep it simple. "We've received a tip that someone is operating a black market in chocolate and other supplies. I thought you might have seen something, since you're practically everywhere."
Nena stroked her fingers over the tufts of brown hair that had started to sprout over Meredith's scalp in contemplation, sending out tendrils of search protocols. The data wove its way back to her.
"I don't think I should tell you," she said at last.
"M'am?"
"Ooh I'm so sorry, but I don't want to involve myself too much with the affairs of you humans. It's just so confusing and very dangerous, wouldn't you agree?"
Bates couldn't find any anger in his heart and simply sighed. "You didn't seem to mind so much when you married Dr Beckett."
"Sorry I'm not much help!" Nena said mildly. "I'm a little busy at the moment – the physicists seem to be rerouting something they shouldn't. I thought they could do with a visit."
"I sure don't envy them," Bates said feelingly, though he was thinking about how much he envied Beckett.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An endless night sky, but without even the slightest pinprick of light. Carson held out his hands in front of himself and saw nothing, only feeling his fingers ghosting through the black. He called out and the warped echo of his own words answered him. His feet glided through empty space, dangling as he floated through eternity.
"Aye, wonderful, thank ye for this, Rodney," he muttered.
"Carson?"
What on Earth…? Blinking, he swiped his arm over his face and swiftly the darkness gave way to the gateroom of Atlantis. Most of the people gathered there stood around the edge of the room, heads bowed in respect. Elizabeth's form appeared, hand delicately placed over a coffin. Draped beneath her fingers was the blue and white of a Scottish flag. Horror swept over Carson and he tried to walk towards the coffin, but with each step it drew further away. He could hear his own voice shouting from within, "No, ye've got it wrong! I'm not dead!"
"Carson?"
Turning, he saw Nena emerging from the throng of bodies. They fell around her slowly, like falling debris in the wind. Holding out her arms, the spectre of his wife enveloped him in an embrace that seemed to fall right through him.
"I don't understand, love," he said. "What are ye doin' here? Where we we?"
Emerald eyes disintegrated into livid red and her mouth twisted into a gaping dark hole that threatened to swallow him as easily as the surrounding gloom had. Her words came hissed and strange through the sudden distance between them. "They're all going to die. And you'll be stuck here. Stuck with a chair and your progeny. You should run and never return. Maybe then you'll do the decent human thing and die."
"I-I love ye, and I love our daughter! It doesn't – it shouldn't matter!"
"They're all going to die."
"NO!"
"Carson?"
Flinging around to the source of his name, the CMO slapped the air with his hand and felt flesh give against his assault.
"OW! Carson, what'd you do that for?"
"Rodney?"
"You hit me!"
"I cannae see a bloody thing, just so ye know, and I'm sorry if I hit yet but that's the least of my concerns right now!"
"Oh. Lights. No problem, see?"
Bland white light blazed over them and Carson found himself kneeling on the floor of a chrome laboratory. Shaking, he leaned onto a bench to drag his body upright, though his legs quaked unsteadily. He looked around the lab for any sign of the coffin or Nena, but only innocuously clean metal and glass met his gaze.
"What is this place?" Carson asked quietly.
"Hmm," Rodney said to this, eyes flicking over a screen. "Ah there we go. Neurological scans, uplink protocols and...no, no, no this is bad. Replicators? Carson, I need you to plug in or whatever it is you do…"
Replicators. God. Beckett had heard of those from personnel previously stationed at Stargate Command. Not a particularly pleasant bunch, and the human form ones had a nasty habit of putting their hands into people's heads.
"That is explains it then," Carson murmured, uneasily standing as far away as possible from the equipment.
"Explains what?" Rodney demanded.
The screen in front of them flickered into life, showing real time footage of them in the lab. Blocky Ancient text streamed over their faces before morphing into English.
Hello, consort of Atlantis.
Carson moved forward carefully, eyeing it. "What do ye want?"
You are not machine. Yet you are not human like your companion.
"I am bloody human!"
You are data. Corporeal data. I want to be corporeal. A body. They said they would give me one. Can you give me one?
"Who are 'they', then?" Carson asked.
The great ones. They created me. To exist. To replicate. I need a body to continue these functions.
"Do we look like Bodies'R'Us?" snapped Rodney. "From what I can tell, your power reserves aren't anything fantastic. You're a machine. You don't exist or have any actual thought processes that aren't programmed into you."
If that is how you wish to think…
The screen went dark. Carson swallowed. "Rodney…"
Sharp needles shot into his skull, ripping right through. Crying out, Carson backpedaled towards the door just as it shut. He slammed back into it, fingers scrabbling at his temples as the mental assault continued. After squeezing his eyes shut, he wrenched them open to see not the room but lines of blue and green letters, chasing each other round and round. He was aware of someone pushing him roughly around, but then it didn't matter as the text began to screech into his face. And the faces of his friends howled up from the ground, mixed with the multiple faces of his wife and daughter.
"Oh no ye don't! Ye don't get to touch them!"
Carson battered his way through the coding, blowing person-shaped holes through the programming. An electronic whine pierced the space between them, dragging him forward into oblivion.
If you will not give me a body, I will take yours!
Carson screamed.
And then he hit the ground solidly, staring up at John and Ronon who stood over him in the outside tunnel.
"Good Lord," Beckett said. "It tried to...it tried to take over my body."
John held up an unused block of C4. "We thought you could use some help. We blew the door in – we made sure hollered through first though. Rodney heard us and got you out of the way just in time."
"This C4 stuff," Ronon said. "Is it standard issue?"
"Let's just take it one step at a time, Ronon," John responded wryly.
Carson frowned. "And the lab?"
"Not enough power to even blink," Rodney assured from his position under the hole, rope cinched around a harness on his person. "Which is a shame, actually, because this would be the first recorded replicator laboratory in the universe. If the Juggernaughts here hadn't barged their way in, there might have been enough power to actually take a look and – "
Ronon tugged hard on the rope over the scientist's head and he started bobbing his way up. Gesturing up to Teyla, the Satedan glanced back down. "You okay, Beckett?"
"I will be when I'm out of here."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Napping on an infirmary bed is a particularly risky venture. Usually there is the chance of an ill member of the expedition stumbling in and emptying the contents of their stomach over the hapless napper, or that the Chief Medical Officer will shake them awake demanding to know why they were taking up a precious bed instead of doing actual work.
Carson was in no such danger of this.
No, instead, a dazzling display of pixels exploded into being beside the bed before Nena tackled him, kissing him into consciousness. Opening his eyes and smiling up at her, Carson rolled her over so that she was beneath him.
"This is a PG-13 rated infirmary, guys," someone noted from nearby.
Evan Lorne was lying in another bed, band-aids dotted all over his forehead and idly sipping from a fruit juice popper. He waved at them. "Yeah, hi. You're stuck here with me."
"What happened, lad?" Carson asked, sliding out of bed to hurry over.
"Oh. Well I got this lead that there was about to be a movement of chocolate from the West pier to one of the training rooms. I might have, uh, accused Lieutenant Cadman of doing it. She challenged me to a wrestling match."
"I take it she won then."
Lorne grimaced. "Hell of a left hook. Didn't expect it. And I still have no idea if she's behind the new Atlantis black market."
Both men glanced over as Nena started giggling. She held up a Butterfinger, munched off the end and tossed the rest over to Evan's outstretched hand.
"Can you actually eat?" the Major asked curiously.
"Sort of…" Nena mused. "I think it's a little too complicated to explain."
Carson rolled his eyes. "She means that experiences of consuming the item can be logged into her databanks, but it cannot be digested physically."
She spat out the rest of the chocolate and offered it to Lorne. He politely refused.
Carson grinned. "Now where were we, my dear?"
"I think we need to talk."
"Och, I was afraid ye'd say that."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Radek Zelenka slumbered on his bed, so beyond exhaustion that he didn't even wake when someone crept into his room. They peered down at him, shook their head and left a half-eaten Butterfinger on his bedside table.
Grinning, his rival slipped out the door.
When Radek finally managed to get out of bed some hours later, he immediately stomped on the offending chocolate and threw it out his window.
"This is not over!" he muttered angrily.
Standing on the balcony of his quarters, he felt alone in the dim glow of two failing moons. The quiet protest passing the lips of the baby in his arms drew his attention down. Carson smiled at his daughter, cradling her against his chest.
"Do ye fancy a bedtime story?" he asked. "Or should I just sing ye to sleep?"
Meredith blinked indifferently.
"Aye, yer right. This is nice for us, isn't it, just us two having a chat. Yer still young enough to listen to me, but as soon as tomorrow ye'll be chasing boys and not standing still long enough for me to give ye a kiss."
Carson pressed his lips to her forehead and drew away smiling. Her eyes had closed and her breathing slowed to deep, chesty breaths.
"I thought you said you were too buggered to take baby duty tonight?" a voice teased from behind.
Turning and holding a finger to his lips, Carson dropped his hand and smiled at his wife. "Well now, how could I disappoint the lass after coming to her rescue every other night?"
"What about me?" pouted Nena. "Don't tell me you've forgotten all about me."
"How could I do that, love? I'd sooner board a hive ship than risk yer wrath."
"You'd better kiss me then, Carsie-buns."
Shifting Meredith into one arm, Carson wound his other around Nena, nuzzling the size of her face. The entity of Atlantis leaned back just before their lips met. She tutted. "And do you go around kissing just anyone? I hear you're popular with all the human women."
"Now, love, that business with Lieutenant Cadman…" Beckett stopped and blushed. "It wasn't my fault, ye know. The lass was acting that way because it might not have worked…"
"Everyone knows that. But does your wife?"
Carson snorted and snatched the kiss from her. He was silently grateful to any cosmic power in the universe that Nena had not taken it the wrong way. Much as the doctor had been worried for his best friend (not that Rodney ever needed to be made aware of that title) recovering from the dart-induced schizophrenia, he'd sat in the infirmary to make sure that Nena didn't swoop in and exact her particular brand of vengeance on Cadman.
He'd fallen asleep on that duty and woken up to witness Nena and Laura holding mugs of infirmary-grade coffee – which was a rather exceptional brew, if Carson did say so himself. The two women had been trading giggly whispers in the corner and eating their way through a bag of Butterfingers. Since then, Carson had not worried too much and carried the hope that Nena had finally outgrown the need to jealously guard her husband.
Mind you, he wouldn't say no to her locking Dr Biro something dark and scary for a few days.
"I'll put Meredith to bed," Nena murmured into the corner of his lips.
"Oh? What reason would there be for that? She'll just be awake in an hour or so. Ye know it."
Nena pulled back, scooping her daughter into her arms. She laughed and shook her head. "That's not your problem tonight. You need sleep, my love."
The two most important women in Carson's life shimmered into thin air. He leaned back against the railing, arms folded behind him, smiling into the empty doorway on the balcony. After a moment, he walked into his quarters and collapsed onto the bed, stomach first. Face buried in the pillow, he considered disappearing away to virtu-Atlantis.
"Too bloody tired," he mumbled and went straight to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Nice of you to join us," John Sheppard greeted slyly from his chair.
Carson pulled a face and settled himself between Elizabeth and Ronon. He hadn't meant to oversleep and he certainly hadn't expected his wife to switch off his alarm. Just another bit of daily mayhem, he supposed.
"Hullo there, John," he returned. "I don't suppose ye've taken lessons in manners from Rodney?"
Lt. Colonel Sheppard propped up a knee against the table, titling back his chair. He offered a crooked grin before giving a sweeping gesture towards the doctor's end of the table. He brought a finger back to his lips and made a quiet shhhing noise. Dr McKay rolled his eyes. "Are you in primary school?"
"You didn't raise your hand," John said.
Ronon cleared his throat. "Are we supposed to?"
"No," Teyla answered, resting her hands on the table. "That practice is for those of us who have not yet reached adulthood."
John stared at her. His mouth slowly opened, then snapped shut. He laughed and threw his hand up in the air, jerking it around insistently. After a few seconds of fighting it, Elizabeth allowed her smile to dart over her face before masking it by covering her mouth with well-placed fingers that hopefully made her look pensive.
"What is it, John?" she acknowledged.
He dropped his hand. "Since this is going to be Ronon's first mission with the team, don't you think we should do something a little special?"
Dr Weir let her brow fall to the bridge of her hand and said nothing.
"Colonel," warned Teyla.
Ronon looked unconcerned, linking his hands behind his head. His armour pulled tight with this action, though didn't make a sound despite the type of material. He glanced around the silent table. "Are we going to do this thing or what?"
"Actually, before we get to the briefing, there's one thing we need to do," Elizabeth informed them all. "Carson?"
Beckett scrunched back the sleeves of his dark jacket to his elbows and said, "Thank ye, love. As I'm sure ye know, there's plenty of times when teams are stranded or lost, so it would come in handy if we could touch a button and know where ye are. Nena says there's a way to fashion an insertable ship that can relay your position straight to the sensors, no matter where in the galaxy ye happen to be."
"Great, when do we get them?" John asked.
"It will take a wee bit of time and some adjustments but – "
A heavy fist slammed onto the table, making Elizabeth's paper bounce a few inches off course. Rodney scooped up his coffee and held it protectively away from the table. Ronon Dex snarled, "Any man who comes near me with that chip thing is going to wish they were born without extremities."
Awkward silence ensued. Staring down into his lap, Carson swallowed. "That's well enough. I'm not saying ye have to use it. It's just something to think about."
"It's been thought about enough," Ronon said in a low voice.
Sheppard coughed loudly into the back of his hand. "Oookay, next topic for discussion."
"I won't disagree there," Elizabeth said. "The planet doesn't appear to be inhabited, though there are catacombs that the team before you discovered. This isn't a dangerous mission – that we know of – but don't think of it as a routine check-up."
Rodney crossed his arms. "Couldn't you give us something a little more important than sloppy seconds?"
His expression turned from sour to indignant, as he leaped of his chair and rubbed his shin. Glaring across the table at the most likely suspects to have kicked him, the scientist finally settled on the Satedan.
"You were disrespecting your superior by questioning orders," Ronon said by way of explanation. "And next time, keep your feet on your side. Or you'll probably lose them."
Beckett looked sideways at him. "Are ye always this friendly?"
Ronon gave him a feral grin in return.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Walking through the control room, Carson had to stop. Something seemed out of place. He scanned the room with the sensors, finding two other people in the room with him. Chuck was on duty by the Ancient DHD, nodding his head frequently with telltale white earphones in his ears. He even strummed an invisible guitar.
Carson got to his knees and peeked under the console. He found Radek Zelenka curled up in a ball, snoring quietly as he slept. Bemused, the CMO stood up and patted Chuck on the shoulder.
"There's no incoming wormhole!" Chuck shouted.
Flicking the earphones out of Chuck's ears, Carson said, "Yes, thank ye son, I'm aware of that. Do ye happen to know why Radek is asleep here?"
The Canadian's eyes darted down to Zelenka, a smirk writing its way across his face. He waggled two fingers at Carson, indicating that he should move in closer. When the doctor was in position, Chuck explained in a hushed whisper, "No one's buying his chocolate stash anymore. They say there's a new player in the market. I don't know who it is, but they are way cheaper than Dr Zelenka. The stress is getting to him."
"Are ye saying that after a Wraith siege and countless other things to worry about…" Carson began slowly. "...Radek has finally lost it over some chocolate?"
"Yep. Makes you wonder, though. Has to be someone with real balls to take down Zelenka's empire like that."
"Or just common sense, perhaps."
Carson cast one last sympathetic look down at his friend before leaving the control room. He had learnt over his time on Atlantis that it was better to let scientists sleep where they had fallen, rather than risk a caffeine-deprived diatribe thrown into his face. This was an important lesson he'd yet to pass on to the newer doctors in his infirmary; a group of too young and too uptight graduates with a preference for 9-to-5 work than graveyard shifts.
Thinking about them made him feel old and nervous.
I'll not die as long as I'm here, Carson reminded himself.
It shocked him that the words came so easily to his mind.
"Damn it," he murmured out loud.
Yet another thing to worry about. He didn't dare approach Nena about his current concerns. It was too easy a crutch to pass off his fear of death. He feared for Meredith. He feared outliving his friends.
Admittedly, this is not a problem that many humans must face in any lifetime. But for Carson Beckett, who wasn't even sure if he was human anymore, it was a troubling thought.
Rodney McKay, on another planet, decided that to be human was to suffer the errors of others. His main problem was falling down a seven foot hole with only three ration bars. This would soon enough be added to Carson's List of Things To Worry About.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first thing that Dr Beckett noticed upon arriving on the alien planet was that a lot of the trees seemed to be blue or purple. The second thing to grab his attention was John and Teyla waiting a little way down the path from the Stargate, casually talking with their weapons holstered. Stumbling over the odd rock or two in the path and lugging a medical case, as well as a coil of rope around his shoulder, Carson had expected a little more mayhem and a lot more of a pain in the neck.
"Alright then, what seems to be the emergency?" he asked.
Sheppard lifted a hand in greeting. "Rodney's stuck in a hole."
"Our attempts to guide him out have been…" Teyla hesitated. "...met with some resistance."
"I brought some rope, as ordered. What do you mean resistance?"
They began walking through the trees, leaving the patchy but safer path. John kept ahead, slashing branches out of the way with his hands and forcing Carson to duck behind him. Teyla brought up the rear. They'd gone a few metres before John explained, "He keeps insisting that he's broken something. He's blaming Ronon for walking in front of and distracting him at a crucial moment."
"Rodney did not see the hole until it was too late," the Athosian added.
Carson smiled briefly. "And where is Ronon at the moment?"
"Oh we left him with Rodney," John replied, unconcerned. "They need a bit of team bonding and Ronon's going to have to get used to him sometime."
"Oh my God."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Go fish!" challenged Evan Lorne.
The head of in-house security of Atlantis peeked over the edge of his cards, before lowering so that his forehead was all that his opponent could see. Finally, Bates set his fingertips on the desk between them, forcing them inch by inch across the lacquered surface until they touched the tip of the card pile. He snapped up the top card and sliced it in between the cards he held in his hand. Lorne nodded his head several times, smiling, before saying, "Any fives?"
"Go…" Bates curled his lip. "Go fuc – "
A loud, fast and bedraggled scientist burst into the room. This kind of thing didn't usually happen to Bates, though it had happened once to Lorne, with exactly the same person. Dr Radek Zelenka held up a finger to silence them and continued tumbling out words and vague obscenities. Lorne and Bates exchanged resigned glances.
"This is a matter of great importance to the security of Atlantis!" finished Zelenka, flicking a hand through the mop of his hair that had settled across his glasses.
Sergeant Bates threw down his cards rather quickly. "We're all ears, Doctor."
Evan's eyebrows crept up towards his hairline and he shook his head. Sore loser that one. He gathered up the cards and wound an elastic band over the set. He kicked the chair beside him out so that there was enough room for Radek to plonk down onto it. And plonk down he did. Coaxing his glasses from his eyes, revealing dark shadows and fine lines of stress, Zelenka flopped back against the chair.
"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the chocolate thing?" Lorne asked.
Radek nodded hastily. "Ano, yes, it has everything to do with it. While I had control of the market, we could be assured of where the, ah, items in questions were coming from. Guaranteed source. But this new threat could spell disaster for the expedition!"
"Believe me, I'd like to take any threat seriously," Bates said. "But Dr Weir has made it very clear that my position here is one of grace, and that any resources I ask to use in investigations must go through her first."
"We could...make informal inquiries to the usual suspects," Evan suggested.
"Case out known places of trade…pick-up points and customers…"
"Then when we close in, what, let Zelenka have a monopoly on the trade?"
"You were the one who said we should make inquiries."
"Is this a serious threat though?"
"We could make it one."
"I get your thinking there."
Zelenka squirmed forward in the chair to regard them closely, squinting until he realised he should put his glasses back on. Once restored to the world of sight, the scientist's eyes widened. Then narrowed. Then widened again. His mouth soon followed.
"You know, you two are slightly scary," he observed.
Lorne rested his hand over the gun sitting across his lap and demanded, "Do you want us to check this out or not?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Carson stood on the rim of the hole and almost lurched forward as he lowered his gaze down, down into the dark shaft awaiting him. The trees surrounding them swayed and moaned as an unsettled breeze wafted through the woods, though failing to topple the gelled perfection that was Dr Beckett's hair this particular day. It certainly looked a good deal better than whatever John was trying to pull off.
"Rodney?" he called down.
"Thank God, finally someone who knows what they're doing!" bounced back up with a slight echo.
Carson closed his eyes in relief. "Glad to see yer still responsive. I've brought a rope – are ye able to use yer hands?"
"I can't move my fingers and I think that's bad, isn't bad isn't? I'll have to relay everything through Zelenka and he couldn't even be a typist for someone with a monosyllabic vocabulary. I can't do that!"
"Alright, we get the picture," Carson told him flatly. "I'll come down myself."
A few minutes later, with the rope tied through carabiners secured to a harness, Carson was ready to make the descent. He warily handed over the end of the rope to Ronon.
"I haven't dropped anyone," Dex said seriously. "Yet."
The CMO turned away to hide his expression, which he suspected was a cross between grim humour and appalled fear. Despite himself, he snuck a look back over his shoulder. Ronon's smirk was enough for him. John offered to also hold the rope, but was dissuaded rather forcefully when Ronon dug fingers into his chest and shoved him away.
"Wookiee life debts," John muttered aside to Teyla.
Teyla angled her quizzical frown at him and shook her head briefly. Her CO shrugged with one side of his lips crinkling his cheek in response. Men will be men, especially in other galaxies, though John would never have said such a thing in front of anyone from the US military. He had an image to uphold.
Carson wove his tongue around his teeth as he was carefully lowered down into the hole. It wasn't a tight fit, though he would certainly have felt more comfortable in something a little wider. A flash of light blinded him and quite abruptly his feet then backside grazed rocks and soil. Confused, he unbuckled himself from the rope, turning his head side to side. His eyes landed on Rodney who was standing upright in a passageway supported by wooden beams. The scientist was busily tapping his fingers over a door of what looked to be Lantean design.
"I'm close to leaving ye down here," Carson threatened. "I was worried ye might be hurt, but what are ye doing? Passing the time quite comfortably, I see."
He tapped his radio but static growled back at him. Sloping back onto his elbows, Carson yelled up, "He's fine! I'm not sure I'll bring him up in one piece at this rate."
"It would probably be easier to bury him down there, Beckett," Ronon supplied.
Rodney marched back towards the hole. "I'm right here you know! And I can hear everything you're saying or even thinking of saying. I brought Carson here for a reason. There's an Ancient laboratory down here – or at least I think it is, I've never really had much patience for this kind of translating thing – and it's not responding to any command prompts I put into the power relay."
"It's not that simple, Rodney - I'm not exactly compatible with all sorts of technology!"
"Well, you're the best idea I've had."
A request to be pulled back up dried on Carson's tongue when he focused on the door. Innate buzzing multiplied into a head-splitting wail. Clapping his hands over his ears, he stood up and raced over. Whipping his eyes over the text and finding only nonsense, he reluctantly took his hands from his head and rested them over the control panel beside the door. Something tugged from his stomach, almost pulling him flush against the wall of dirt.
"Rodney, I'm not...not feeling so well - " Carson started then fell through the gap in the wall that swiftly closed over once he'd disappeared.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nena offered a beaming smile at Sergeant Bates as he passed in the corridor. He immediately wheeled around and shuffled his feet to match his stride to hers. Meredith, who was riding in a pouch on her mother's front, regarded him with one open eye, mouth opening into a yawn.
"I need to ask you something, m'am," he said smoothly.
"Donald!" Nena exclaimed. "I was just on my way to the mess hall. You can join me if you want – and why are you looking so down?"
Bates shot a concerned look around the general vicinity, but luckily no one had heard her address him by his mysterious first name. He tried to keep it simple. "We've received a tip that someone is operating a black market in chocolate and other supplies. I thought you might have seen something, since you're practically everywhere."
Nena stroked her fingers over the tufts of brown hair that had started to sprout over Meredith's scalp in contemplation, sending out tendrils of search protocols. The data wove its way back to her.
"I don't think I should tell you," she said at last.
"M'am?"
"Ooh I'm so sorry, but I don't want to involve myself too much with the affairs of you humans. It's just so confusing and very dangerous, wouldn't you agree?"
Bates couldn't find any anger in his heart and simply sighed. "You didn't seem to mind so much when you married Dr Beckett."
"Sorry I'm not much help!" Nena said mildly. "I'm a little busy at the moment – the physicists seem to be rerouting something they shouldn't. I thought they could do with a visit."
"I sure don't envy them," Bates said feelingly, though he was thinking about how much he envied Beckett.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An endless night sky, but without even the slightest pinprick of light. Carson held out his hands in front of himself and saw nothing, only feeling his fingers ghosting through the black. He called out and the warped echo of his own words answered him. His feet glided through empty space, dangling as he floated through eternity.
"Aye, wonderful, thank ye for this, Rodney," he muttered.
"Carson?"
What on Earth…? Blinking, he swiped his arm over his face and swiftly the darkness gave way to the gateroom of Atlantis. Most of the people gathered there stood around the edge of the room, heads bowed in respect. Elizabeth's form appeared, hand delicately placed over a coffin. Draped beneath her fingers was the blue and white of a Scottish flag. Horror swept over Carson and he tried to walk towards the coffin, but with each step it drew further away. He could hear his own voice shouting from within, "No, ye've got it wrong! I'm not dead!"
"Carson?"
Turning, he saw Nena emerging from the throng of bodies. They fell around her slowly, like falling debris in the wind. Holding out her arms, the spectre of his wife enveloped him in an embrace that seemed to fall right through him.
"I don't understand, love," he said. "What are ye doin' here? Where we we?"
Emerald eyes disintegrated into livid red and her mouth twisted into a gaping dark hole that threatened to swallow him as easily as the surrounding gloom had. Her words came hissed and strange through the sudden distance between them. "They're all going to die. And you'll be stuck here. Stuck with a chair and your progeny. You should run and never return. Maybe then you'll do the decent human thing and die."
"I-I love ye, and I love our daughter! It doesn't – it shouldn't matter!"
"They're all going to die."
"NO!"
"Carson?"
Flinging around to the source of his name, the CMO slapped the air with his hand and felt flesh give against his assault.
"OW! Carson, what'd you do that for?"
"Rodney?"
"You hit me!"
"I cannae see a bloody thing, just so ye know, and I'm sorry if I hit yet but that's the least of my concerns right now!"
"Oh. Lights. No problem, see?"
Bland white light blazed over them and Carson found himself kneeling on the floor of a chrome laboratory. Shaking, he leaned onto a bench to drag his body upright, though his legs quaked unsteadily. He looked around the lab for any sign of the coffin or Nena, but only innocuously clean metal and glass met his gaze.
"What is this place?" Carson asked quietly.
"Hmm," Rodney said to this, eyes flicking over a screen. "Ah there we go. Neurological scans, uplink protocols and...no, no, no this is bad. Replicators? Carson, I need you to plug in or whatever it is you do…"
Replicators. God. Beckett had heard of those from personnel previously stationed at Stargate Command. Not a particularly pleasant bunch, and the human form ones had a nasty habit of putting their hands into people's heads.
"That is explains it then," Carson murmured, uneasily standing as far away as possible from the equipment.
"Explains what?" Rodney demanded.
The screen in front of them flickered into life, showing real time footage of them in the lab. Blocky Ancient text streamed over their faces before morphing into English.
Hello, consort of Atlantis.
Carson moved forward carefully, eyeing it. "What do ye want?"
You are not machine. Yet you are not human like your companion.
"I am bloody human!"
You are data. Corporeal data. I want to be corporeal. A body. They said they would give me one. Can you give me one?
"Who are 'they', then?" Carson asked.
The great ones. They created me. To exist. To replicate. I need a body to continue these functions.
"Do we look like Bodies'R'Us?" snapped Rodney. "From what I can tell, your power reserves aren't anything fantastic. You're a machine. You don't exist or have any actual thought processes that aren't programmed into you."
If that is how you wish to think…
The screen went dark. Carson swallowed. "Rodney…"
Sharp needles shot into his skull, ripping right through. Crying out, Carson backpedaled towards the door just as it shut. He slammed back into it, fingers scrabbling at his temples as the mental assault continued. After squeezing his eyes shut, he wrenched them open to see not the room but lines of blue and green letters, chasing each other round and round. He was aware of someone pushing him roughly around, but then it didn't matter as the text began to screech into his face. And the faces of his friends howled up from the ground, mixed with the multiple faces of his wife and daughter.
"Oh no ye don't! Ye don't get to touch them!"
Carson battered his way through the coding, blowing person-shaped holes through the programming. An electronic whine pierced the space between them, dragging him forward into oblivion.
If you will not give me a body, I will take yours!
Carson screamed.
And then he hit the ground solidly, staring up at John and Ronon who stood over him in the outside tunnel.
"Good Lord," Beckett said. "It tried to...it tried to take over my body."
John held up an unused block of C4. "We thought you could use some help. We blew the door in – we made sure hollered through first though. Rodney heard us and got you out of the way just in time."
"This C4 stuff," Ronon said. "Is it standard issue?"
"Let's just take it one step at a time, Ronon," John responded wryly.
Carson frowned. "And the lab?"
"Not enough power to even blink," Rodney assured from his position under the hole, rope cinched around a harness on his person. "Which is a shame, actually, because this would be the first recorded replicator laboratory in the universe. If the Juggernaughts here hadn't barged their way in, there might have been enough power to actually take a look and – "
Ronon tugged hard on the rope over the scientist's head and he started bobbing his way up. Gesturing up to Teyla, the Satedan glanced back down. "You okay, Beckett?"
"I will be when I'm out of here."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Napping on an infirmary bed is a particularly risky venture. Usually there is the chance of an ill member of the expedition stumbling in and emptying the contents of their stomach over the hapless napper, or that the Chief Medical Officer will shake them awake demanding to know why they were taking up a precious bed instead of doing actual work.
Carson was in no such danger of this.
No, instead, a dazzling display of pixels exploded into being beside the bed before Nena tackled him, kissing him into consciousness. Opening his eyes and smiling up at her, Carson rolled her over so that she was beneath him.
"This is a PG-13 rated infirmary, guys," someone noted from nearby.
Evan Lorne was lying in another bed, band-aids dotted all over his forehead and idly sipping from a fruit juice popper. He waved at them. "Yeah, hi. You're stuck here with me."
"What happened, lad?" Carson asked, sliding out of bed to hurry over.
"Oh. Well I got this lead that there was about to be a movement of chocolate from the West pier to one of the training rooms. I might have, uh, accused Lieutenant Cadman of doing it. She challenged me to a wrestling match."
"I take it she won then."
Lorne grimaced. "Hell of a left hook. Didn't expect it. And I still have no idea if she's behind the new Atlantis black market."
Both men glanced over as Nena started giggling. She held up a Butterfinger, munched off the end and tossed the rest over to Evan's outstretched hand.
"Can you actually eat?" the Major asked curiously.
"Sort of…" Nena mused. "I think it's a little too complicated to explain."
Carson rolled his eyes. "She means that experiences of consuming the item can be logged into her databanks, but it cannot be digested physically."
She spat out the rest of the chocolate and offered it to Lorne. He politely refused.
Carson grinned. "Now where were we, my dear?"
"I think we need to talk."
"Och, I was afraid ye'd say that."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Radek Zelenka slumbered on his bed, so beyond exhaustion that he didn't even wake when someone crept into his room. They peered down at him, shook their head and left a half-eaten Butterfinger on his bedside table.
Grinning, his rival slipped out the door.
When Radek finally managed to get out of bed some hours later, he immediately stomped on the offending chocolate and threw it out his window.
"This is not over!" he muttered angrily.