December 23rd, 2006
|sinanju||01:02 pm - [Chloe] Ebil! Awakens!|
Who: Chloe Sullivan
Where: The Gate Room, Atlantis
When: Approx. two hours after SG-23's arrival
Invited: Anyone and everyone
Chloe walked out of her newly assigned quarters in a giddy mood. Atlantis was amazing! It was incredible, in fact. It was hard to accept that the city was as old as it was known to be. It seemed brand new, as if even the Atlantis expedition had just moved in and hadn't had time to scuff the floors. Chloe reminded herself that the city was actually several million years old and giggled. Incredible!
It wasn't exactly homey, though. It was a cold city in many ways. Not very inviting or comfortable looking, though the human-occupied areas were nice enough. On the other hand, compared to that ice palace of Clark's--and presumbly to Krypton as a whole, at leas before it was destroyed--it was positively warm and cuddly.
Using the transporter closet--(The T.C.,) Chloe thought and laughed to herself--was mildly amusing. Not as frightening as gating all the way to Atlantis, not as exciting as the ring transporters. But it got her back to the center of the city very quickly. Chloe stepped out of the T.C. and looked around.
A handful of Marines stood guard here and there. Lots of people in Atlantis jumpsuits hurried to and fro, though a few sauntered instead. They were probably off duty, Chloe guessed. The stargate--which looked very different from the gate at the SGC was inactive at the moment. Overhead, the high ceiling provided room for Puddle Jumpers to swoop down from their bays and fly through the gate.
Chloe was about to go in search of the commissary when she saw a woman not wearing the Atlantis uniform walking by. Teyla Emmagen. Native of the Pegasus galaxy and a kick-ass warrior by all accounts. But nothing in the briefings Chloe had read had indicated just how hot she was, not even the photographs. "Teyla? Teyla Emmagen?"
Teyla stopped and looked at her. "Yes. You are Chloe Sullivan? Of SG-23?"
"Yes!" Chloe said, approaching her. She felt unreasonably pleased that Teyla knew who she was. "I just...I saw you walking by, and...and...." Chloe reached out to grab her arms and lay a big kiss on her. Teyla parried her easily, automatically, looking surprised.
Chloe tried again. Teyla evaded her again, a tiny frown line appearing on her brow. "Miss Sullivan, this is not..." she said, but Chloe wasn't listening. She had to kiss Teyla. She had to. For a start. There were a lot of things she suddenly wanted to do to Teyla, and she knew Teyla would like them if she'd simply go along with it.
Chloe lunged at her again. "Teyla, just--I only want to..." Teyla parried her again. Chloe tried to counter her, but even a couple of years of training made her no match for Teyla. What made it especially humiliating--and embarrassment and anger began to erode her initial lusty impulses--was that Teyla clearly wasn't even trying hard. She wasn't even really thinking about it when she reacted.
Chloe felt her anger mounting rapidly. She continued struggling fruitlessly, panting and growling. She wasn't trying to kiss the woman any longer. Now she wanted to strike her, hurt her. Teyla parried her a couple more times, then resorted to a pain compliance hold. It hurt, but Chloe ignored it. Let Teyla dislocate her shoulder--it would heal before she finished punching Teyla out!
More hands seized Chloe now. She struggled, screaming at them, cursing. In her frenzy, Chloe managed to wrench one arm free long enough to grab a Marine's sidearm. Before she could use it, something struck her arm hard enough to break it an instant before she went down under a pile of bodies, immobilized by their sheer weight.
"Take her to Dr. Beckett," Chloe heard Teyla say. "Confine her until he can determine what is wrong with her."
Current Mood: infuriated
Current Music: NIne Inch Nails, "Closer"
|Date:||December 27th, 2006 04:46 am (UTC)|| |
"All right," Dr. Beckett said. Clearly he was going to make no headway in trying to convince the woman that she might also be affected by...whatever it was.
"Well, then," he said, "Isabelle's records suggest that she has some level of empathic ability. I suppose the first thing we should do, in the absence of physical tests, is try to determine whether she's personally affected by whatever is affecting Miss Sullivan or whether she's simply reacting to what she's sensing around her."
"Can you distinguish between those situations?" Beckett ask. "Or shield her somehow? If she's reacting to other peoples' emotions, that should at least give her some relief until we can figure out what's wrong."
|Date:||December 27th, 2006 06:13 pm (UTC)|| |
Teyla carefully picked herself up from the floor, watching the anthropologist carefully. She was pleased to note that the marines were doing the same; though wary and apprehensive, they didn't dare to approach the clearly emotional and distraught mother.
"How'd she -"
Teyla cut the marine off with a look and a low hiss. "Stranger things have happened, is that not one of your frequent sayings? Concern yourselves with the protection of the staff and the patients and let others worry about the how and the what of it."
A last warning glare made the marines remain where they stood, as Teyla took a few cautious steps forward. She didn't venture close enough to further upset the woman, but she wished to be in range, both to aid Carson if such should be needed and to ascertain for herself the pertinent facts and information.
Two things were clear to Teyla: that the woman had some additional mental ability that had to be considered, and as Dr. Jackson-Anderson's conversation with Carson continued, it was also apparent that Carson knew something of this.
(Does Dr. Weir know about this? Does John?)
"Do you think that I haven't tried that?" Dr. Jackson-Anderson demanded. "Of course I've tried shielding her, but then we both --" Her anger ebbed and faded, tiredness and frustration washing in to replace them. Shoulders slumping, the woman absently petted her daughter's back where the girl continued to snuggle close to Miss Sullivan. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears, one of which rolled down her cheek and was instantly batted away. "Please, I don't know what else to do. I can't help her without making this terrible on us both."
"Ami, you know that I'm here to help you and Isabelle. But with what's happening, it may not be easy on any of us, aye?" Carson looked over his shoulder, and with a nod and a glance, the head nurse brought a chair over which the doctor lowered the woman into. "Where's your husband? Can he help?"
"He's - I don't - lower levels somewhere - we had a row."
"With all this emotional upset, it's no wonder," Carson petted her shoulder. "I still need to find out what's going on. Will you help with that? Suffer through while I do some tests and get some readings?"
"I don't know if - I don't know how much I can handle. I don't know how much Izzie can handle." The last was a low whisper.
"We'll take it slow. Give you breaks in between. Might help Miss Sullivan too."
Teyla watched in silence while the woman stared down at her hands. Finally after a long silence, when Teyla began to think that she wouldn't answer, Dr. Jackson-Anderson did with a weak nod.
Feeling that it was safe to make her presence known, Teyla shifted enough to catch Carson's attention. "Dr. Beckett, if all is under control here, I will go to see Dr. Weir. Is there anything other that I should report?"
"No, not yet. I'll give her a report when I can. Although you could mention that she might want to wander down this way."
Teyla nodded and turned to leave the infirmary. The soft, almost desperate, "Miss Emmagen," stopped her. She turned, cant her head as she met the teary-eyed gaze of Dr. Jackson-Anderson.
"I'm sorry for what I did . . . earlier."
"No apology is necessary, Doctor. I do not believe that you were . . . completely yourself. Allow Dr. Beckett to see to you and your daughter. If there is anyone on Atlantis who can help you, it is he." With a polite inclination of her head, Teyla spun smoothly on her heels and exited the infirmary.
|Date:||December 28th, 2006 01:27 am (UTC)|| |
[Dr. Beckett] Brainstorming
Carson grabbed a nearby chair and placed it beside Chloe's bed. Chloe and Isabelle were still giggling and cooing at one another, though how long that would last he had no idea. "Ami, why don't you sit here with Chloe and Isabelle for now. I'll be back in just a minute."
Once Ami had taken a seat, Carson returned to his office. "What is it?" his assistant asked, "do you know? I've called security."
"I don't know, Julia," he said. "I think we can be sure it's not physical--not a disease, at any rate." If Chloe Sullivan was experiencing this, it was almost certainly not a physical ailment.
He scribbled on a notepad and tore off the sheet, handing it to Julia. "I want you to draw these sedatives from stores. We'll use the first one on cooperative patients. The other...." Julia nodded and hurried off.
Beckett sat down and looked at Miss Sullivan's medical record again. Whatever had happened on that island to restore her after she'd been nearly killed by a Wraith--and what he wouldn't give to be able to duplicate that!--had left her changed. There was a lurid note in her file that her blood was not to be used for transfusions. Even people with compatible blood types reacted like it was a mis-match.
She no longer had scars, or fillings in her teeth that pre-island medical records suggested she ought to have, and her tonsils had seemingly grown back. She had never been less than disgustingly healthy in the five years since, not even when exposed to several nasty diseases during her work with SG-23. Drugs affected her normally, save that she required considerably more than her body weight would suggest.
(So it might be a drug,) Beckett thought. (Except that they came through directly from the SGC, and so far Miss Sullivan's bloodwork showed no evidence of drugs.)
Not a disease. Not a drug, unless it was something they hadn't detected yet. Not impossible, but unlikely. Alien influences? Psychic tampering--but wouldn't Ami or her husband notice that?
"Dr. Beckett?" Julia was back with the drugs.
"Ah, good," he said. Beckett took one of the bottles from her. "I'd like you to fill several syringes with that one, and keep them handy. If we have any more violent patients, we may need them."
Beckett smiled comfortingly at Julia and then returned to Chloe's bedside. "Ami," he said, "I've got a mild sedative here. If you can convince Isabelle to drink a little of it, it should calm her down, even let her sleep for a while. It's not a cure, but it should make her more comfortable, and give you some rest."
|Date:||December 28th, 2006 06:59 pm (UTC)|| |
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