» Memory in a Touch - written for the vid challenge by
Memory in a Touch - written for the vid challenge by ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
newkidfan
(starrylizard Dec. 3rd, 2005 05:35 pm)
starrylizard Dec. 3rd, 2005 05:35 pm)Title: Memory in a Touch
Author:starrylizard
Characters: McKay/Sheppard, Beckett and Weir
Rating: PG - Friendship (possibly pre-slash depending on interpretation)
Summary: Sometimes, a touch (and some green goo) is all it takes to change everything.
Notes: Takes place sometime after the episode The Hive. This fic was written in response to the vid challenge that can be found here atblimey_icons. Many thanks to my wonderful beta rinkle for all the help. Any remaining errors are mine alone, so please point them out. I hate mistakes! Also thanks to newkidfan becuse the vid set the plot bunnies into a frenzy. My muse has never worked so fast!
And my very own personalized version of the vid can be downloaded here (click to go to file front to download -9.2mb) Thanks to newkidfan for making it!*Squee*
“Well, this place was a monumental waste of time.” Sheppard’s voice echoed off the walls of the large cave they now stood in. Hours of walking through harsh terrain on an almost perpetually dark planet, followed by hours of deciphering Ancient text and searching the caves the texts pertained to, had not paid off and he was about ready to call it a day.
On the other side of the room, McKay stretched to reach some clay pots, trying to see if there was anything of interest. So far the cave had proven to be incredibly boring. The team had found what basically amounted to some Ancient love poetry and some pretty ornaments, but nothing of scientific or military interest. Frustrated, he stood on tiptoe to reach roughly toward a particularly mundane looking pot that stood on one of the many daises near the centre of the room. In his haste, he slipped on the loose ground, landing on his ass on the dirt floor. He was followed closely by the pot, and its apparently green, sticky and very pungent-smelling contents were suddenly spreading across his flak jacket.
“Oh now that’s just great,” he grumbled, sitting up and attempting to wipe the sticky fluid from his hands onto his trousers. “Just wonderful! I had better not be allergic to this stuff.”
Sheppard smirked, as he moved over to inspect the mess now covering McKay. Looking down at the other man, he tilted his head to one side, as if studying a piece of interesting art and grinned. “I’ve always said green was your colour, McKay.”
McKay stuck out his jaw and narrowed his eyes at Sheppard in an expression somewhere between a pout and a death stare, as he tried again to divest his hands of the green stuff. “Yes, yes. I’m sure it’s all very funny to you, but how about a little help here?”
He held up his sticky hand and Sheppard wrinkled his nose slightly, as he stoically moved to help his friend up. As their hands connected, something happened. At first it was just a slight tingling of their palms, but soon it felt like something else entirely. By the time McKay was standing upright again, the two men were staring at each other, surprise and confusion written across their features. Their eyes closed and they both fell silently to the floor.
*********
John had been able to see so many things: so many thoughts, feelings, smells, and experiences. They were all meshed into one, falling on top of each other in a mad cacophony of sounds, emotions and images - not one of which he had been able to properly take in or follow. He concentrated on seeing and understanding just one of them, as if he wanted to pull up a picture on the puddle jumper’s HUD, and it seemed to work; suddenly everything became sharp and clear …and he wished it hadn’t.
Everything hurt; the feel of the hospital linen on his skin, the noise of the people talking so softly, yet it sounded like screaming in his mind. He could feel the mask covering his face, yet hadn’t the strength to remove it, and the lights were so bright, so very, very bright. He just wanted, no, needed more of the Enzyme. That’s right, the enzyme. He needed more and he needed it now.
He’d taken the enzyme, lots of the enzyme, because he had to save John. Teyla and Ronan were there too, although his thought for them was only secondary. He needed to save John; needed to know he was safe. He’d been trapped in that place for far too long, calculating the odds of Ford’s plan being remotely successful and he had finally decided to take the enzyme, a lot of the enzyme and he had beaten those stupid goons with ease. He had become Super Rodney, but now there was no more and he was in pain and Carson couldn’t or wouldn’t stop it …and John was still out there. Perhaps it had all been for nothing and this was the most painful thought of all.
The memory seemed so real, so vivid and so real, but it couldn’t be his own…he was John Sheppard and he hadn’t taken the enzyme, not at any point…but Rodney had…and now he knew why. He had taken it to save him. Rodney McKay, the biggest hypochondriac to ever step through a Stargate, had taken an overdose of enzyme with a suspiciously dirty-looking needle for him. He had guessed, had always known deep down, but now it was there in crystal clear colour, thought and sound; the emotion, the excruciating pain. It was all there …and now he knew.
Then it was as if someone was fighting him for control. This wasn’t his memory and he shouldn’t be here. Someone was trying desperately to push him away. He mentally pulled back and suddenly he could sense another mind and it now had control: McKay’s mind.
*****************
As Elizabeth Weir entered the infirmary, she quickly spotted Dr Beckett, although it took longer for him to notice her presence. He unconsciously rubbed at his eyes, and then ran a hand through his hair and over the stubble on his face. He looked tired and worried. After Teyla had made her way back to the gate and raised the alert, Sheppard and McKay had been carefully brought back through the Stargate under quarantine conditions. That had been several hours ago, and in that time very little had changed. The two men were still unconscious and completely unresponsive to external stimuli. Their hands remained firmly grasped together and nothing they had tried had separated them.
Elizabeth’s expression reflected Carson’s concern when he finally noticed her. “Any change?” she asked hopefully.
Carson sighed. “None, I’m afraid. I’ve seen some very odd things in my time, but this is possibly one of the most unusual.”
Elizabeth responded by cocking an eyebrow curiously. “What does that mean, Carson?”
“I’ve been continually monitoring their vitals. Their blood pressure, heart rate, breathing rate, body temperature - they’re all identical. It’s down right creepy, Elizabeth! It’s almost like they’re one person.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrow rose again, higher this time. “Do you have any idea of the cause?”
“Aye. I’ve been studying the green substance that was all over McKay. It’s quite remarkable really, or would be, if it weren’t for the circumstances. We’re lucky we had them under quarantine, or more of us might be in a similar way.”
“But Teyla and Ronon were covered in the stuff, and they aren’t showing any ill effects,” she noted.
“Aye. That’s because it appears to be able to bind to, and interact with the ATA protein. We don’t as yet completely understand the mechanisms by which the ATA gene product does what it does, but from what I can tell, this green goo substance is able to activate the protein and its downstream signaling pathways, in much the same way as touching one of the pieces of Ancient technology would. I think that when McKay touched the goo, it didn’t do anything because it had nothing else to interact with, that is, until he touched Sheppard. At that point, McKay’s ATA had already interacted with the goo, which in turn interacted with Colonel Sheppard’s ATA, forming a sort of link.”
Carson paused at this point, to make sure that Weir was following, before taking a deep breath and continuing with his theory, “I believe the two of them are now connected to each other; certainly their physical conditions reflects the idea.”
At this point, if Weir’s eyebrow had moved any higher, it would have launched itself off her face. “You’re saying the two of them are connected to each other, like they would be connected to a piece of Ancient technology?”
******************
He was sparring with Teyla, moving in patterns and rhythms not his own, yet somehow as familiar as the regular patterns of physics that he so enjoyed. His body didn’t ache at the intense movement, as he might have expected. He wasn’t breathless at all, but content and enjoying the exercise…then he was shooting at a dart, pushing McKay to move faster next to him, protecting him, positioning his body so as to be in the way, should some errant fire get through…there was something strange about all this, but the scene was already changing…he was in a Hive ship, the Queen leaned over his head, her voice like a painful fire as it ripped into his skull, but he clung to his sanity. Clung to the idea that he had to escape, had to get out of this place, had to complete this godforsaken mission from the depths of Ford’s Enzyme-riddled brain…and McKay was counting on him to get back to the planet. Others were counting on them to stop the ship, but it was the thought of McKay that drove him. His plan had failed and he’d been forced to leave him behind. Hell, at this point McKay was probably safer than he was, but it didn’t matter; he had made a promise to get them all out of there and he wasn’t going to fail...but that wasn’t right. He was McKay. That was his name. The thoughts were not his own, but those of Colonel John Sheppard. It was Sheppard that had faced the Wraith Queen and won, and he had done it while holding onto thoughts of him…
McKay tried to stop the flood of thoughts whirling around in his mind long enough to sort out which ones were his own.
'Sheppard, are you in here? What’s going on?'
'You did it for me.' The response sounded both surprised and thick with emotion.
'As did you.'
**************
In the infirmary, two sets of eyes simultaneously opened, blinking against the harsh lights of the infirmary. Each man turned in unison to face the other in the adjoining bed. The watery blue eyes met and held the darker brown ones, before their gaze shifted; moving down to take in their hands that were still clenched tightly between the two of them. The hands squeezed more tightly for a moment, before the grip slowly released - and yet the contact remained, lingering for a moment, until finally, reluctantly, it was broken completely.
Then sound returned. It came crashing in. Nurses, heart rate monitors, Carson’s delighted voice as he was informed of their return to consciousness, and Weir explaining how, according to the Ancient inscription on the pot of green goo, they had just participated in, for want of a better term, an Ancient wedding ritual.
For John Sheppard and Rodney McKay though, a single touch had changed everything for them that day, and things would never be the same again.
~ The end ~
The sequel to this story, Need, can be found HERE.
Author:
starrylizardCharacters: McKay/Sheppard, Beckett and Weir
Rating: PG - Friendship (possibly pre-slash depending on interpretation)
Summary: Sometimes, a touch (and some green goo) is all it takes to change everything.
Notes: Takes place sometime after the episode The Hive. This fic was written in response to the vid challenge that can be found here at
blimey_icons. Many thanks to my wonderful beta rinkle for all the help. Any remaining errors are mine alone, so please point them out. I hate mistakes! Also thanks to newkidfan becuse the vid set the plot bunnies into a frenzy. My muse has never worked so fast!And my very own personalized version of the vid can be downloaded here (click to go to file front to download -9.2mb) Thanks to newkidfan for making it!*Squee*
“Well, this place was a monumental waste of time.” Sheppard’s voice echoed off the walls of the large cave they now stood in. Hours of walking through harsh terrain on an almost perpetually dark planet, followed by hours of deciphering Ancient text and searching the caves the texts pertained to, had not paid off and he was about ready to call it a day.
On the other side of the room, McKay stretched to reach some clay pots, trying to see if there was anything of interest. So far the cave had proven to be incredibly boring. The team had found what basically amounted to some Ancient love poetry and some pretty ornaments, but nothing of scientific or military interest. Frustrated, he stood on tiptoe to reach roughly toward a particularly mundane looking pot that stood on one of the many daises near the centre of the room. In his haste, he slipped on the loose ground, landing on his ass on the dirt floor. He was followed closely by the pot, and its apparently green, sticky and very pungent-smelling contents were suddenly spreading across his flak jacket.
“Oh now that’s just great,” he grumbled, sitting up and attempting to wipe the sticky fluid from his hands onto his trousers. “Just wonderful! I had better not be allergic to this stuff.”
Sheppard smirked, as he moved over to inspect the mess now covering McKay. Looking down at the other man, he tilted his head to one side, as if studying a piece of interesting art and grinned. “I’ve always said green was your colour, McKay.”
McKay stuck out his jaw and narrowed his eyes at Sheppard in an expression somewhere between a pout and a death stare, as he tried again to divest his hands of the green stuff. “Yes, yes. I’m sure it’s all very funny to you, but how about a little help here?”
He held up his sticky hand and Sheppard wrinkled his nose slightly, as he stoically moved to help his friend up. As their hands connected, something happened. At first it was just a slight tingling of their palms, but soon it felt like something else entirely. By the time McKay was standing upright again, the two men were staring at each other, surprise and confusion written across their features. Their eyes closed and they both fell silently to the floor.
*********
John had been able to see so many things: so many thoughts, feelings, smells, and experiences. They were all meshed into one, falling on top of each other in a mad cacophony of sounds, emotions and images - not one of which he had been able to properly take in or follow. He concentrated on seeing and understanding just one of them, as if he wanted to pull up a picture on the puddle jumper’s HUD, and it seemed to work; suddenly everything became sharp and clear …and he wished it hadn’t.
Everything hurt; the feel of the hospital linen on his skin, the noise of the people talking so softly, yet it sounded like screaming in his mind. He could feel the mask covering his face, yet hadn’t the strength to remove it, and the lights were so bright, so very, very bright. He just wanted, no, needed more of the Enzyme. That’s right, the enzyme. He needed more and he needed it now.
He’d taken the enzyme, lots of the enzyme, because he had to save John. Teyla and Ronan were there too, although his thought for them was only secondary. He needed to save John; needed to know he was safe. He’d been trapped in that place for far too long, calculating the odds of Ford’s plan being remotely successful and he had finally decided to take the enzyme, a lot of the enzyme and he had beaten those stupid goons with ease. He had become Super Rodney, but now there was no more and he was in pain and Carson couldn’t or wouldn’t stop it …and John was still out there. Perhaps it had all been for nothing and this was the most painful thought of all.
The memory seemed so real, so vivid and so real, but it couldn’t be his own…he was John Sheppard and he hadn’t taken the enzyme, not at any point…but Rodney had…and now he knew why. He had taken it to save him. Rodney McKay, the biggest hypochondriac to ever step through a Stargate, had taken an overdose of enzyme with a suspiciously dirty-looking needle for him. He had guessed, had always known deep down, but now it was there in crystal clear colour, thought and sound; the emotion, the excruciating pain. It was all there …and now he knew.
Then it was as if someone was fighting him for control. This wasn’t his memory and he shouldn’t be here. Someone was trying desperately to push him away. He mentally pulled back and suddenly he could sense another mind and it now had control: McKay’s mind.
*****************
As Elizabeth Weir entered the infirmary, she quickly spotted Dr Beckett, although it took longer for him to notice her presence. He unconsciously rubbed at his eyes, and then ran a hand through his hair and over the stubble on his face. He looked tired and worried. After Teyla had made her way back to the gate and raised the alert, Sheppard and McKay had been carefully brought back through the Stargate under quarantine conditions. That had been several hours ago, and in that time very little had changed. The two men were still unconscious and completely unresponsive to external stimuli. Their hands remained firmly grasped together and nothing they had tried had separated them.
Elizabeth’s expression reflected Carson’s concern when he finally noticed her. “Any change?” she asked hopefully.
Carson sighed. “None, I’m afraid. I’ve seen some very odd things in my time, but this is possibly one of the most unusual.”
Elizabeth responded by cocking an eyebrow curiously. “What does that mean, Carson?”
“I’ve been continually monitoring their vitals. Their blood pressure, heart rate, breathing rate, body temperature - they’re all identical. It’s down right creepy, Elizabeth! It’s almost like they’re one person.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrow rose again, higher this time. “Do you have any idea of the cause?”
“Aye. I’ve been studying the green substance that was all over McKay. It’s quite remarkable really, or would be, if it weren’t for the circumstances. We’re lucky we had them under quarantine, or more of us might be in a similar way.”
“But Teyla and Ronon were covered in the stuff, and they aren’t showing any ill effects,” she noted.
“Aye. That’s because it appears to be able to bind to, and interact with the ATA protein. We don’t as yet completely understand the mechanisms by which the ATA gene product does what it does, but from what I can tell, this green goo substance is able to activate the protein and its downstream signaling pathways, in much the same way as touching one of the pieces of Ancient technology would. I think that when McKay touched the goo, it didn’t do anything because it had nothing else to interact with, that is, until he touched Sheppard. At that point, McKay’s ATA had already interacted with the goo, which in turn interacted with Colonel Sheppard’s ATA, forming a sort of link.”
Carson paused at this point, to make sure that Weir was following, before taking a deep breath and continuing with his theory, “I believe the two of them are now connected to each other; certainly their physical conditions reflects the idea.”
At this point, if Weir’s eyebrow had moved any higher, it would have launched itself off her face. “You’re saying the two of them are connected to each other, like they would be connected to a piece of Ancient technology?”
******************
He was sparring with Teyla, moving in patterns and rhythms not his own, yet somehow as familiar as the regular patterns of physics that he so enjoyed. His body didn’t ache at the intense movement, as he might have expected. He wasn’t breathless at all, but content and enjoying the exercise…then he was shooting at a dart, pushing McKay to move faster next to him, protecting him, positioning his body so as to be in the way, should some errant fire get through…there was something strange about all this, but the scene was already changing…he was in a Hive ship, the Queen leaned over his head, her voice like a painful fire as it ripped into his skull, but he clung to his sanity. Clung to the idea that he had to escape, had to get out of this place, had to complete this godforsaken mission from the depths of Ford’s Enzyme-riddled brain…and McKay was counting on him to get back to the planet. Others were counting on them to stop the ship, but it was the thought of McKay that drove him. His plan had failed and he’d been forced to leave him behind. Hell, at this point McKay was probably safer than he was, but it didn’t matter; he had made a promise to get them all out of there and he wasn’t going to fail...but that wasn’t right. He was McKay. That was his name. The thoughts were not his own, but those of Colonel John Sheppard. It was Sheppard that had faced the Wraith Queen and won, and he had done it while holding onto thoughts of him…
McKay tried to stop the flood of thoughts whirling around in his mind long enough to sort out which ones were his own.
'Sheppard, are you in here? What’s going on?'
'You did it for me.' The response sounded both surprised and thick with emotion.
'As did you.'
**************
In the infirmary, two sets of eyes simultaneously opened, blinking against the harsh lights of the infirmary. Each man turned in unison to face the other in the adjoining bed. The watery blue eyes met and held the darker brown ones, before their gaze shifted; moving down to take in their hands that were still clenched tightly between the two of them. The hands squeezed more tightly for a moment, before the grip slowly released - and yet the contact remained, lingering for a moment, until finally, reluctantly, it was broken completely.
Then sound returned. It came crashing in. Nurses, heart rate monitors, Carson’s delighted voice as he was informed of their return to consciousness, and Weir explaining how, according to the Ancient inscription on the pot of green goo, they had just participated in, for want of a better term, an Ancient wedding ritual.
For John Sheppard and Rodney McKay though, a single touch had changed everything for them that day, and things would never be the same again.
~ The end ~
The sequel to this story, Need, can be found HERE.
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From:
no subject
Plus, I love the scientific way you had Carson tlaking about the ATA gene.
It's a beautiful story.
From:
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Elizabeth's eyebrows are related in some way to Teal'c's I think. They are both responsible for so much facial expression. I love it.
Plus, I love the scientific way you had Carson talking about the ATA gene.
Sometimes the time spent in the lab has to pay off. *big grin*
It's a beautiful story.
Now I'm blushing. Thankyou so much.
From:
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From:
no subject
Yay! I'm so glad you liked it. Your vid was so great! I wasn't even planning to write a fic, but the muse is a very strange thing and it was such a persistent little bunny. :D
I'm still downloading the vid at my current snail speed internet. *Waiting very impatiently* Thankyou so much for that. It really didn't take you long either. One day I will figure out the mystery that is WMM! *big grin*
From:
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From:
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As for the rest, I don't know yet. It might be fun to fiddle with the telepathic link thing further, but I haven't got any plans at the moment. I guess I'm awaiting the next plot bunny stalker.
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Plus, ICON LOVE!!!
From:
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Technobabble of a biological nature is what I do best.
My icon ...made it myself. They're all up for grabs (with appropriate credit appreciated). *grins*
From:
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Off to read the sequel.
From:
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Thanks so much!
From:
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Liking the story thus far!
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