Chapter three is proving to be a little reluctant to end so.. here's the first two 
Prologue:
"So what do you think of the wraith?"
She paused, considering his question silently as she sipped at the mug of tea held in her hands before finally answering after a minute or so had passed. He was in no rush to get a response, despite knowing what Beckett might say at his jaunts onto the public balconey at night. He could always argue that there was a thick glass barrier between his and her own, despite it only coming up to waist height.
"They are predators neccesary to maintain the balance. Too numerous for this to be obvious or effective, and blinded by their own arrogance admitedly, but predators all the same. To remove them would open up the role to another niche creature, likely to be even worse. Wraith are intelligent humanoid beings that evolved to fill a role, with a culture and past."
He blinked in surprise at that as his mind registered what she'd said. There'd been no undertone of hate in her words, no disgust or contempt. He knew full well she wasn't a worshipper; he doubted that she'd have been allowed even on this expedition had she expressed any more of an opinion. At his silence, she then spoke again.
"Surprised?" Amusement was paired with it, and when he tore his eyes from the sky to look at her, he caught the arched eyebrow and quirked smile. A human expression, but he soon managed to read it and nodded a little. She seemed to read him easily enough without his face moving much, something he was silently grateful for in comparison to Teyla's false expressions and Sheppard's constant unending questions.
"Yes, quite."
She stifled a yawn then, eyeing her watch.
"Well, it's late for me, I should get some rest. May the stars watch over you, and guide you in times of darkness." Turning away from the rail and offering an absent wave, his golden eyes remained on her as she retreated into the opaque darkness of her own quarters. Only once he heard the sound of the lock did he answer.
"And may they do so to you too..."
With a heavy sigh, he turned back into his own quarters and eyed the guard's with a bitter expression. He'd get no sleep again tonight, not with this feeling of being wanted by neither still welling in his chest.
Chapter 1:
2 months ago:
He opened his eyes with a flicker, wincing briefly at the light hitting them before eventually getting used to it and peering around. The room was unfamiliar, much like the tubes running into his arms and the machines beeping about him. Had he been injured? He frowned. He had no memory, no awareness of what might have happened.
"Oh aye, you're up laddie that's good..."
Plucking up a radio out of eyeview, he reported it in.
"Elizabeth?" Muffled reply.
"He's awake."
The accented voice soon caught his attention, and he found himself looking up at what he presumed to be a doctor of some sort. His blue-grey eyes had an almost kindly expression to them, despite the light he flicked into his eyes once or twice being a little irritating. Allowing him time to finish, he then spoke up. His voice felt rusty, unused, and a glass of water was soon held out to him. Mm, that felt a little better. The man didn't seem too bothered with more personal questions, which he could tolerate easily enough. Hearing it was still strange mind. He allowed himself to rest against the pillows supporting him, despite the questions clamouring for his attention in his mind.
"Senny lass, will you get these papers up to Weir for me? Oh, and take the clock battery out, it needs replacing."
He briefly observed the newcomer, and was observed back in turn. She was pale, with a pair of half-moon spectacles perched on her nose aiding a pair of inquisitive blue eyes. Tilting her head a little in a manner that caused a strand of hair to fall from behind one of her ears, she then diverted her attention to the tasks the doctor, Carson, had given her. Young compared to those he'd seen walking around, but he presumed that must merely be nature working in her favour; he doubted any such place as this, with marine guards posted outside his door, would let anyone not an adult in. Knocking the clock off the wall with the chucked help of a book, she caught it and removed something from the back before tucking the folder beneath her arm.
"Oh, they said they'd be down soon by the way." Her nod to him was presumably for Carson's benefit, to indicate who 'they' would be likely coming to see. With a nod of acknowledgement to him after that, she left without a word. Not once had she addressed him. His eyes soon found the ceiling again, and he began idly to count the tiles. He'd gotten to thirty when the door slid open again. Two people filed in. One, a man with short and slightly messy dark hair and three, a woman with short hair and a stern, yet somehow still concerned expression. He felt no familiarity at their presence, no twinge of recognition. His eyes moved over the trio, waiting expectantly. The doctor spoke first, commenting more like.
"Blood pressure's fine, pulse normal. You're bouncing back quite nicely."
He blinked, puzzled. He felt fine, physically at least. What on earth did he mean?
"Bouncing back from what?" That was when the woman addressed him, a smile on her face that didn't quite seem to reach her eyes.
"Hullo Michael. D'you remember me?"
He frowned, desperately forcing his mind to try and find a memory where she cropped up. No, nothing. Just frustrating foggy nothingness. Bah.
"No."
"I'm Doctor Elizabeth Weir. This is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard."
"You serve under my command."
"Do you know where you are?"
"I don't even know who I am!" His frustration and exasperation showed in that once sentance, blurted out in an incredulous manner.
"Your name is Lieutenant Michael Kenmore. You're in a private room off the Infirmary here in Atlantis."
That seemed familiar. He lifted his head a little, tilting his head oh so slightly to one side as though trying to shake a memory out of place.
"Is that familiar to you?" Weir noticed this easily enough.
"Atlantis. Yeah ... I think." He was uncertain, mind. The word was familiar but he couldn't think *why*.
"You're a member of a team that went offworld. You were captured by the Wraith."
He looked away, frowning slightly at this. Wraith. The word seemed so familiar, but why? Why did this word seem to resonate with such a feel within his mind?
"I see you remember the Wraith."
He looked at the Doctor then, blinking a little. Had he been that obvious? No matter really, he didn't know why he remembered them. Maybe they were merely well known, he had no idea.
"What did they do to me?" It was Weir who answered for him, shrugging her shoulders a fraction. She didn't look quite like the combatant type, and Sheppard's answer just about summed this conclusion up for him.
"We're not quite sure yet."
"We sent a rescue team for you but, um, you were wounded during the mission."
"You've been unconscious for days now – had us worried sick," was Carson's comment. He could tell, judging by how his room had no other patients and a guard posted outside the door, one on either side. What sort of threat or problem did they expect?
"Why can't I remember anything?"
"We don't know yet. Hopefully we'll learn more as we conduct further tests."
"And in the meantime, I can assure you that we will give you the best possible care to help in your recovery."
They walked out, save for the doctor. He didn't know the tapes connected to the hidden cameras were being observed, watching his every move, word and response to the stimuli around him. With a quiet sigh, he closed his eyes and allowed the insulin injection - although he did keep mum about the fact he had no idea what on earth diabetes was. The doctor so far had known what he was doing, so he kept it at that. He sank back into the bed, and allowed his eyes to close so he could better process the sounds around him.
Prologue:
Spoiler:
"So what do you think of the wraith?"
She paused, considering his question silently as she sipped at the mug of tea held in her hands before finally answering after a minute or so had passed. He was in no rush to get a response, despite knowing what Beckett might say at his jaunts onto the public balconey at night. He could always argue that there was a thick glass barrier between his and her own, despite it only coming up to waist height.
"They are predators neccesary to maintain the balance. Too numerous for this to be obvious or effective, and blinded by their own arrogance admitedly, but predators all the same. To remove them would open up the role to another niche creature, likely to be even worse. Wraith are intelligent humanoid beings that evolved to fill a role, with a culture and past."
He blinked in surprise at that as his mind registered what she'd said. There'd been no undertone of hate in her words, no disgust or contempt. He knew full well she wasn't a worshipper; he doubted that she'd have been allowed even on this expedition had she expressed any more of an opinion. At his silence, she then spoke again.
"Surprised?" Amusement was paired with it, and when he tore his eyes from the sky to look at her, he caught the arched eyebrow and quirked smile. A human expression, but he soon managed to read it and nodded a little. She seemed to read him easily enough without his face moving much, something he was silently grateful for in comparison to Teyla's false expressions and Sheppard's constant unending questions.
"Yes, quite."
She stifled a yawn then, eyeing her watch.
"Well, it's late for me, I should get some rest. May the stars watch over you, and guide you in times of darkness." Turning away from the rail and offering an absent wave, his golden eyes remained on her as she retreated into the opaque darkness of her own quarters. Only once he heard the sound of the lock did he answer.
"And may they do so to you too..."
With a heavy sigh, he turned back into his own quarters and eyed the guard's with a bitter expression. He'd get no sleep again tonight, not with this feeling of being wanted by neither still welling in his chest.
Chapter 1:
Spoiler:
2 months ago:
He opened his eyes with a flicker, wincing briefly at the light hitting them before eventually getting used to it and peering around. The room was unfamiliar, much like the tubes running into his arms and the machines beeping about him. Had he been injured? He frowned. He had no memory, no awareness of what might have happened.
"Oh aye, you're up laddie that's good..."
Plucking up a radio out of eyeview, he reported it in.
"Elizabeth?" Muffled reply.
"He's awake."
The accented voice soon caught his attention, and he found himself looking up at what he presumed to be a doctor of some sort. His blue-grey eyes had an almost kindly expression to them, despite the light he flicked into his eyes once or twice being a little irritating. Allowing him time to finish, he then spoke up. His voice felt rusty, unused, and a glass of water was soon held out to him. Mm, that felt a little better. The man didn't seem too bothered with more personal questions, which he could tolerate easily enough. Hearing it was still strange mind. He allowed himself to rest against the pillows supporting him, despite the questions clamouring for his attention in his mind.
"Senny lass, will you get these papers up to Weir for me? Oh, and take the clock battery out, it needs replacing."
He briefly observed the newcomer, and was observed back in turn. She was pale, with a pair of half-moon spectacles perched on her nose aiding a pair of inquisitive blue eyes. Tilting her head a little in a manner that caused a strand of hair to fall from behind one of her ears, she then diverted her attention to the tasks the doctor, Carson, had given her. Young compared to those he'd seen walking around, but he presumed that must merely be nature working in her favour; he doubted any such place as this, with marine guards posted outside his door, would let anyone not an adult in. Knocking the clock off the wall with the chucked help of a book, she caught it and removed something from the back before tucking the folder beneath her arm.
"Oh, they said they'd be down soon by the way." Her nod to him was presumably for Carson's benefit, to indicate who 'they' would be likely coming to see. With a nod of acknowledgement to him after that, she left without a word. Not once had she addressed him. His eyes soon found the ceiling again, and he began idly to count the tiles. He'd gotten to thirty when the door slid open again. Two people filed in. One, a man with short and slightly messy dark hair and three, a woman with short hair and a stern, yet somehow still concerned expression. He felt no familiarity at their presence, no twinge of recognition. His eyes moved over the trio, waiting expectantly. The doctor spoke first, commenting more like.
"Blood pressure's fine, pulse normal. You're bouncing back quite nicely."
He blinked, puzzled. He felt fine, physically at least. What on earth did he mean?
"Bouncing back from what?" That was when the woman addressed him, a smile on her face that didn't quite seem to reach her eyes.
"Hullo Michael. D'you remember me?"
He frowned, desperately forcing his mind to try and find a memory where she cropped up. No, nothing. Just frustrating foggy nothingness. Bah.
"No."
"I'm Doctor Elizabeth Weir. This is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard."
"You serve under my command."
"Do you know where you are?"
"I don't even know who I am!" His frustration and exasperation showed in that once sentance, blurted out in an incredulous manner.
"Your name is Lieutenant Michael Kenmore. You're in a private room off the Infirmary here in Atlantis."
That seemed familiar. He lifted his head a little, tilting his head oh so slightly to one side as though trying to shake a memory out of place.
"Is that familiar to you?" Weir noticed this easily enough.
"Atlantis. Yeah ... I think." He was uncertain, mind. The word was familiar but he couldn't think *why*.
"You're a member of a team that went offworld. You were captured by the Wraith."
He looked away, frowning slightly at this. Wraith. The word seemed so familiar, but why? Why did this word seem to resonate with such a feel within his mind?
"I see you remember the Wraith."
He looked at the Doctor then, blinking a little. Had he been that obvious? No matter really, he didn't know why he remembered them. Maybe they were merely well known, he had no idea.
"What did they do to me?" It was Weir who answered for him, shrugging her shoulders a fraction. She didn't look quite like the combatant type, and Sheppard's answer just about summed this conclusion up for him.
"We're not quite sure yet."
"We sent a rescue team for you but, um, you were wounded during the mission."
"You've been unconscious for days now – had us worried sick," was Carson's comment. He could tell, judging by how his room had no other patients and a guard posted outside the door, one on either side. What sort of threat or problem did they expect?
"Why can't I remember anything?"
"We don't know yet. Hopefully we'll learn more as we conduct further tests."
"And in the meantime, I can assure you that we will give you the best possible care to help in your recovery."
They walked out, save for the doctor. He didn't know the tapes connected to the hidden cameras were being observed, watching his every move, word and response to the stimuli around him. With a quiet sigh, he closed his eyes and allowed the insulin injection - although he did keep mum about the fact he had no idea what on earth diabetes was. The doctor so far had known what he was doing, so he kept it at that. He sank back into the bed, and allowed his eyes to close so he could better process the sounds around him.
..... well the training went well and I will get my chair. 
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