Loveless Relationships
folder
Stargate: SG-1 › Stargate Atlantis
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
5,272
Reviews:
11
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Stargate: SG-1 › Stargate Atlantis
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
5,272
Reviews:
11
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Stargate Atlantis, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Six
“Silicon? You mean he is turning into a Replicator?” asked Dr. Heightenmeyer.
“No, no, no. Replicators are not composed of this type of silicon. Replicators are made from a metallic composite along with several other mol—”
“Yes, yes, yes. Get on with it, Carson.”
“When I put a sample of John’s blood under the microscope, it looks as if his cells are spontaneously purging carbon molecules and all that remains are what appears to be red blood cells composed of silicon rather than carbon. I’m not detecting any type of virus or bacteria in his system that could do this. It is as if Colonel Sheppard is disappearing right before our eyes. I just canna explain it.”
Main Tower: LEVEL ONE CONTAINMENT ROOM
Lt. Colonel John Sheppard clenched his fists as he sat on the floor of the quarantine room. He looked at his watch for the fifteenth time. He studied the tattoo under his sweatband. He hated the way his boots felt without the laces.
The sounds of shoes hurrying down the hallway alerted him to someone’s arrival. He stood.
It was one of the lab-tech geeks whom he rarely met. Goose, Gerber, Gobble something.
A guard pointed a P-90 menacingly toward him.
“I’ll be needing another sample, Colonel,” said the doctor with the funny name.
“I know there’s something wrong with me. I can feel it.” The colonel rolled up his sleeve and offered his arm to the man submissively. “Why isn’t anyone telling me what’s going on. I’m starting to forget things. And I’m starting to remember other things. God, this isn’t making sense.”
The doctor tied off the flow of blood to his arm with the rubber tube.
He watched with disgusted fascination as blood filled the tube attached to his arm. Red. Blood. Pain. Screaming! Realization hit him. “I hurt someone. He needs help.”
The doctor suddenly looked to Sheppard with interest.
“Robert, Rodger, Robin, something like that.”
“Rodney?” suggested the doctor.
“Yeah! That’s the guy.” John was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions he could barely understand. “There was blood. God, what did I do to him?” There was a wet stinging in his eyes.
The doctor removed the needle and the sample of blood from his arm. “Earlier you were non-verbal and uncooperative. Why the sudden change.”
“I don’t know. Memories come and go . . . my mind is . . . it’s like it is rearranging itself.” He growled.
The doctor stepped back and behind the guard.
John stiffened before making a fist and slamming it into the wall. “Damn it! I hurt him! What the fuck is happening to me?”
The guard urged the doctor outside the quarantine cell before securing the door.
“I’m going to send for Dr. Beckett and Dr. Heightenmeyer.” The doctor ran back up the hall to the lift.
^^^^^
“Open the door, Sergeant,” said Dr. Beckett.
“Sir, before you enter, there is something you should know about what he’s been doing.”
“What is it?” asked Heightenmeyer.
“Well, ma’am, he pulled down his pants, and began . . . well, he was touching himself. Like he was looking for something. I wasn’t trying to look. He’s my CO, but . . .”
“Spit it out, Bosworth, time is of the essence,” said Beckett.
“Sir, it looked like he had dried blood . . . on himself.”
The doctors considered the information.
“Alright. Please, open the door,” asked Heightenmeyer.
“Carson? . . . I’m scared. What’s happening to me?”
“No, no, no. Replicators are not composed of this type of silicon. Replicators are made from a metallic composite along with several other mol—”
“Yes, yes, yes. Get on with it, Carson.”
“When I put a sample of John’s blood under the microscope, it looks as if his cells are spontaneously purging carbon molecules and all that remains are what appears to be red blood cells composed of silicon rather than carbon. I’m not detecting any type of virus or bacteria in his system that could do this. It is as if Colonel Sheppard is disappearing right before our eyes. I just canna explain it.”
Main Tower: LEVEL ONE CONTAINMENT ROOM
Lt. Colonel John Sheppard clenched his fists as he sat on the floor of the quarantine room. He looked at his watch for the fifteenth time. He studied the tattoo under his sweatband. He hated the way his boots felt without the laces.
The sounds of shoes hurrying down the hallway alerted him to someone’s arrival. He stood.
It was one of the lab-tech geeks whom he rarely met. Goose, Gerber, Gobble something.
A guard pointed a P-90 menacingly toward him.
“I’ll be needing another sample, Colonel,” said the doctor with the funny name.
“I know there’s something wrong with me. I can feel it.” The colonel rolled up his sleeve and offered his arm to the man submissively. “Why isn’t anyone telling me what’s going on. I’m starting to forget things. And I’m starting to remember other things. God, this isn’t making sense.”
The doctor tied off the flow of blood to his arm with the rubber tube.
He watched with disgusted fascination as blood filled the tube attached to his arm. Red. Blood. Pain. Screaming! Realization hit him. “I hurt someone. He needs help.”
The doctor suddenly looked to Sheppard with interest.
“Robert, Rodger, Robin, something like that.”
“Rodney?” suggested the doctor.
“Yeah! That’s the guy.” John was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions he could barely understand. “There was blood. God, what did I do to him?” There was a wet stinging in his eyes.
The doctor removed the needle and the sample of blood from his arm. “Earlier you were non-verbal and uncooperative. Why the sudden change.”
“I don’t know. Memories come and go . . . my mind is . . . it’s like it is rearranging itself.” He growled.
The doctor stepped back and behind the guard.
John stiffened before making a fist and slamming it into the wall. “Damn it! I hurt him! What the fuck is happening to me?”
The guard urged the doctor outside the quarantine cell before securing the door.
“I’m going to send for Dr. Beckett and Dr. Heightenmeyer.” The doctor ran back up the hall to the lift.
^^^^^
“Open the door, Sergeant,” said Dr. Beckett.
“Sir, before you enter, there is something you should know about what he’s been doing.”
“What is it?” asked Heightenmeyer.
“Well, ma’am, he pulled down his pants, and began . . . well, he was touching himself. Like he was looking for something. I wasn’t trying to look. He’s my CO, but . . .”
“Spit it out, Bosworth, time is of the essence,” said Beckett.
“Sir, it looked like he had dried blood . . . on himself.”
The doctors considered the information.
“Alright. Please, open the door,” asked Heightenmeyer.
“Carson? . . . I’m scared. What’s happening to me?”