A/N: Yes yes yes! I know! I’m so so sorry!! I severely underestimated the difficulty of this story! All I can say is YIKES! This is a tough sucker…

So, here is a super long chapter (for me anyway) to try and make up for being so horribly and unforgivably late. Although, I must say now that this might happen again. I am really wrestling to figure out where this thing is going. So, apologies ahead of time for the next big absence.

XXX

Rodney stared at his friends shivering form. His constantly shivering form. Seriously, how long could a man shiver? Sheppard wasn’t even cold. His body temperature was normal; his skin was warm to the touch. But his body wouldn’t stop quivering. It wasn’t all out shaking, per say, just…quivering. Rodney put a glass of juice on John’s chest earlier, the liquid wouldn’t stop rippling.

That wasn’t the most disturbing thing either. Neither was the big black and blue bruise that covered his face like a poorly drawn butterfly or the sickly pallor to his skin that only got worse as the day went on or the plethora of tubes that stuck out of John’s body. No, it was the staring. Sheppard wouldn’t stop staring at the ceiling. Occasionally, he blinked. But it was easy to miss and then it seemed like he didn’t blink at all. Rodney had to watch him for a solid five minutes before he caught Sheppard blinking. If you tried hard enough, you could distract him from the ceiling. With enough yelling and flying spittle, you could get a quick glance in your direction. Which is how they knew he wasn’t in a coma. Rodney tried to get Teyla to kiss him yesterday, to see what would happen. She didn’t do it. Of course, it didn’t help that Kanan was in the room at the time.

Sheppard suddenly slumped into the bed. His body stilled, his eyes closed. Rodney wasn’t really worried. This happened at least twice a day. The continuous shaking drained him after a while and the man simply passed out from sheer exhaustion. Keller took advantage of the moments of stillness. Apparently, it’s rather difficult to stick shaking people with needles.

“He’s out,” Rodney yelled over his shoulder to whoever was standing close by. He hated the feeling of routine that there was in the statement. He hated that they couldn’t figure out why John was so screwed up. He hated that they couldn’t figure out why his brain activity had nearly doubled. Or why he wasn’t talking to them but was not-so-obviously aware of his surroundings. Because yes, he was aware of his surroundings. You could just tell by looking at him, Sheppard was responsive. But he was ignoring them. Rodney knew what Sheppard looked like when he was ignoring people. This was almost amusing. If the look hadn’t been so intense.

Why didn’t they give him a sedative so that he didn’t shake himself to death? Because there was a foreign substance in his bloodstream. Foreign. Unknown. Something that, no matter how many hours Jennifer put in, remained unidentified.

Rodney stood up and stretched his back out as nurses worked busily around Sheppard’s form. He wandered over to Jennifer, who had an eye glued to the microscope. Rodney put a comforting hand on the small of her back.

“Hey, getting anywhere?” he asked. Jennifer rolled her spine back and stared sideways at him.

“No,” she said wearily. “I don’t even know where to start. I mean, this isn’t like anything we’ve ever encountered before. It doesn’t even behave remotely like any virus or bacteria or anything.” She sighed and leaned her head back on his shoulder.

“Well…um…you’ll figure it out. I have faith in you,” Rodney assured her.

“Thanks Rodney,” Keller said around another sigh.

Jennifer collected herself again and refocused on the microscope. Rodney nodded in silent acknowledgment of the situation, mostly to himself. He glanced over at John. A pair of nurses had pulled a privacy curtain around his bed which was code for ‘we’re doing something that you don’t want to be scarred for life from seeing, Dr. McKay’. He humphed. Food. Food was a good idea. He couldn’t exactly remember the last time he’d eaten anything. Rodney frowned, suddenly realizing exactly how hungry he was. He shot one last glance towards Sheppard’s general direction before trotting down to the mess hall.

Twenty minutes later, Rodney was back by John’s side. He stared intently at the pilot. Sheppard was staring intently at the ceiling. Why did the man always have to do this to them? Why did he always get himself bedridden like this? Idiotic, self sacrificing, inconsiderate flyboy… Did John realize how much they were worried about him? Did he grasp the fact that they hardly left his bedside? And yet Sheppard didn’t even acknowledge his presence. The stare turned into a glare. Rodney felt his anger rising.

“Would you stop ignoring me?” he suddenly snapped. “Look, just because you’re injured and lying helpless in a bed doesn’t mean you get to abandon your manners! We’ll all worried sick because you won’t take a few minutes to talk to us! I mean, honestly, what are you thinking? Would you think about how we’re feeling for a few seconds? And don’t play the ‘I’m in a coma’ card here. I know you can hear me. And respond.” Rodney realized his voice had steadily grown in volume towards the end of his rant but he didn’t care; he needed to vent. “Stupid, idiotic, inconsiderate flyboy…” he muttered. Rodney turned away from the man on the bed for a few seconds; needing physically look at something else for a few moments to calm down. When he looked back at John, his heart nearly stopped.

Sheppard was staring at him. The man’s bruised face was scrunched up in pain or concentration or both, but he was looking at Rodney. John’s hands were balled into shaking fists.

“Sheppard?”

“…’m sorry…” John mumbled through clenched teeth. “Rodney, ‘m sorry…can’t…can’t talk.” He gasped the words as if it were taking everything within him to do it.

“Why? Why can’t you talk?” Rodney demanded. “Come on, Sheppard; give me something else to go on.” John’s stare grew more intense, and slightly hysterical.

“He’s…strong…Nevid. Nevid is…trying to…get out…Can’t talk… gotta concentrate.” John growled the words. Then, in an instant, his demeanor changed. Sheppard’s face smoothed out and his eyes grew a little glassy. A sickly grin picked up the corners of his mouth. Rodney shivered as cold chill snaked down his spine and into his gut. This was not Sheppard. Sheppard did not act like a psychopath. But then, as abruptly as the change took over, Sheppard’s face reverted back to its original state. His eyes were clenched shut and his body was shaking again. Rodney felt his mouth fall open.

“Oh my…”

“Rodney?” Jennifer came up behind him. “Were you saying something?”

“Sheppard…Sheppard was awake,” Rodney stuttered. “He’s…oh… oh crap!”

“Rodney, what’s going on? Who were you talking to?”

It suddenly clicked. Rodney didn’t know why it didn’t click earlier but it clicked now. “Increased brain activity.”

“What? Rodney, you aren’t making sense!” Jennifer pulled his face around.

Rodney’s fingers were snapping. An ‘I’m-figuring-this-out’ smile snuck up on his face. “Increased brain activity! There’s another consciousness inside his head!”

“Another consciousness…” Keller looked dubious.

“Yes yes yes! It fits! He said that someone else was trying to get out. That makes sense now… I knew he was ignoring something…”

“Wait, slow down. He spoke to you? When did this happen?”

“Didn’t I tell you? Oh, he looked right at me and spoke like two seconds ago.” Rodney’s hand flitted up.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Jennifer demanded.

“I’m sorry, I was a little distracted at the time,” Rodney said impatiently. “Ok ok, this makes sense. I mean, we’ve encountered this before. He and Elizabeth had extra people in their heads.”

“And you, right?”

“Right, well,” Rodney coughed. “The point is this isn’t unheard of. Some sort of device must have implanted another consciousness into his brain. That probably explains the foreign substance in his blood. He’s probably fighting it because Sheppard’s stupid like that.” Rodney suddenly sobered. “I think I saw the other consciousness come out for a few seconds. Oh crap. Oh crap!”

“Ok, Rodney, calm down. Radio Woolsey and inform him of the developments. I’ll start some extensive brain scans.”

“And do what? Discover that his brain activity has doubled? Yes, we already know that,” Rodney snapped. His previous elation had been short lived. Sure, he figured it out but he did that on a daily basis…with other things of course. The difference now was that Sheppard’s life, and/or sanity, was on the line now.

“Rodney, I’m not going to argue with you. Radio Woolsey, now,” Keller said firmly. She turned to a passing nurse, instructing the woman to ready Sheppard for a scan before disappearing into her office. Rodney tapped his earpiece.

“Woolsey, this is McKay, get down to the infirmary. Something’s up with Sheppard.”

XXX

John was fighting a battle. Nevid had invaded his head. This wasn’t the first time John had had to share his brain space. But this time was not voluntary. And he was not going to let Nevid take control of his body. He’d made that mistake the first time. Never again.

His head felt…stuffy. Like there wasn’t enough room for the two of them. He was trying to take up all the room he could, mentally shoving Nevid into the corner. The problem was that Nevid was shoving back. Hard. And the freakin’ thing wouldn’t shut up! John could hardly concentrate. He couldn’t afford to sleep, knowing what happened to McKay and Cadman. He couldn’t talk to anyone. Talking to Rodney had very nearly destroyed all of his control altogether. It was giving him the mother of all headaches.

Pain. Sensation. Wears it down. Makes it surrender. Will yield to us. Has to yield.

Shut up! John yelled to his unwelcome invader. He heard the familiar trilling laughter echo in the back of his mind.

XXX

“So how do we get it out?” Ronon asked.

“We don’t.” Rodney snapped. “We don’t know anything about this and Sheppard certainly isn’t in any condition to help us.”

“Can we not go into his head directly?” Teyla suggested. She looked around at group gathered in the observation room. John had been moved into isolation after a plethora of tests. Here, under the bright focused lights, Teyla thought he looked even more pale and sickly. The sight made her nervous. She unconsciously tightened her hold on the bundled baby in her arms.

“And how would you like to do that, hm?” Rodney countered.

“Could we not enter his dreams? We have done that before,” Teyla insisted. Rodney considered it but Dr. Keller jumped in.

“I don’t know how much his brain can handle. I mean, if Rodney’s right there are two consciousnesses in there now, I wouldn’t want to add another one,” she injected. Rodney frowned.

“What do you mean ‘if’?” he groused. They ignored him.

“Didn’t Dr. Jackson house several conscious minds in his own? He survived,” Woolsey said.

“Barely,” Keller insisted. “And it severely diminished his chances of survival. Rodney could barely survive just one added mind.”

“Because we were both fighting for control,” Rodney added.

“And you don’t think Colonel Sheppard is fighting? I mean, he seems to be fighting even harder. How long is that going to last on its own? And how worse will it be if we add to the stress?” Jennifer pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead.

“We have to do something,” Ronon rumbled.

“We need to go back to that cave and try to find out how this happened. Maybe find the person responsible,” Rodney said. “It was probably that weird woman. I knew something was wrong with her.”

“We all knew something was wrong with her,” Teyla reminded him. “That is why we helped her to begin with.”

“Regardless,” Woolsey injected. “I agree; we need to go back to the planet and investigate this. Ronon, Dr. McKay, assemble a team and leave as soon as you can.”

Teyla frowned when her name was not mentioned. “Mr. Woolsey—”

“Teyla, I want you to stay here,” Woolsey insisted. “I think it might be better to have someone to stick close to the colonel.” His eyes flicked down to the child in her arms. She narrowed her eyes but didn’t argue. Staying with John was equally important. Of course she was the natural choice for the task. It didn’t make it any less irritating.

She turned back to the big glass window and watched the tense, trembling man below. A silent prayer tumbled out of her lips as she sighed.

XXX

Teyla sat next to John’s bed. She had an old half torn paperback book in her lap. Of Mice and Men. It was a curious story. She wasn’t quite sure that she was enjoying the story. So she explained the situation to him. It was unclear if he was listening to her but she talked anyway, almost more for her own comfort than his.

She checked her watch for the umpteenth time. The team should be leaving at any moment now. Teyla put a hand on John’s balled fist. She leaned close to his ear. “We are figuring this out, John. You must stay strong. We are here.”

He didn’t react. She didn’t expect him to so she carefully uncurled his fingers and slid her hand into his grasp. His hand hesitated a moment before tightening again. Teyla smiled.

XXX

John mentally braced himself. Nevid always enjoyed it when Teyla was near. The creature sent sick and twisted thoughts through his mind. Thoughts so vile… John either blushed or tried to attack Nevid instead just blocking him. Attacking yielded nothing but exhaustion so he generally avoided that option. Except when Nevid started picturing Teyla doing unsightly things… or pictured John doing unsightly things to her. The mental barrage of images always left John feeling dirty. Nevid always enjoyed it when it felt dirty.

Which is why it came as such a surprise when Nevid suddenly retreated to the far corner of his mind. John suddenly wasn’t pushing on anything. It shocked him to the core.

Teyla’s hand was in his. He grasped it. Turned his head. “Teyla…”

Her eyes went wide. “John?”

“Hey…” he muttered. “I…I don’t know what’s happening.” He had to say it out loud. Nevid wasn’t pushing. What had happened? What was wrong? Something had to be wrong…

“We think you may have another consciousness in your body, John,” Teyla supplied. John frowned, he already knew that but he didn’t press the issue. The confusion was too distracting right now.

“He’s not pushing,” John mumbled.

“Who?”

“Nevid…”

“John, who is Nevid?” Teyla looked earnestly at him. John ignored the question.

“Something’s wrong.”

“The team is going to find out what happened,” she assured him. “They will be leaving at any moment now.”

And then it happened. In one instance, John was staring at her face. In the next instance, he was being mentally hurtled back with a herculean force. Nevid had come storming back with a strange new strength. John barely knew what was happening until he found himself straddling Teyla on the floor, medical equipment screaming and IV fluid flowing from the ripped out needle dangling by his eye. Teyla was staring at him, horrified. A thick and evil lust swept through him as he looked down at her. Teyla’s hands gripped the two solid arms that pinned her shoulders to the floor. Gripped hard, painfully. Then another second passed and those hands snapped into crooks of his elbows and his head pitched forward into her waiting forehead that smacked painfully against his own. His body scrambled backwards, seemingly of its own accord, hands ripping out tubes here and there. Then he was up and bolting out of the room.

STOP STOP STOP! John screamed. Tried to scream. No scream came out of his mouth. Instead it was a sickly, bubbling laughter as he charged down the hallways. Where does it keep its stargate?

No!

Perhaps… John groaned, no sound coming out again, as something pulled sharply at his memories. There was an invasive digging and yanking of pictures and snapshots of his life. And Nevid just kept digging. John screamed as he felt bits of his life torn away and thrust into the vast blackness that was Nevid. There it is! Stupid alien. Foolish to hide from me.

John, Nevid, was running still, turning sharply down corridors. Alarms were blaring again. But John didn’t hear them because Nevid kept digging, ripping his psyche apart from the inside out, spreading it around like compost in a garden.

The shimmering blue of the event horizon suddenly filled his vision. John finally pushed back then. He threw all his strength against the entity. But Nevid easily held him back, laughing hysterically. John felt the twisted pleasure flit through his stomach.

Someone tackled him as he neared the gate, with enough force to crack a few ribs on the unyielding floor. Body weight pressed down on him. The face of a young lieutenant came into view. Nevid’s rage took John’s breath away. He strained to pull himself back as his head suddenly lurched towards the younger man. John screamed in horror as he felt his teeth sink into flesh and warm metallic fluid flooded his mouth.

Then the gate shut down. In a heartbeat, Nevid’s super strength abruptly went lax. John ruthlessly shoved him back. His head spun. His stomach churned. With rubbery arms, he tried to crawl away but suddenly found that he was being pushed to the ground by more than just the profusely bleeding lieutenant. People were shouting around him.

John couldn’t handle it anymore. His stomach squeezed tightly and he retched onto the ground. Blood and bile and feeding-tube fluid splashed onto his face and soaked into his clothes. The people holding him suddenly backed off in favor of not getting splattered with the vile stuff.

John felt black edging in around his vision just as his felt his body start to convulse.

Darkness took him. In more ways than one.

XXX