Stupid Halloween challenge getting under my skin.
Stupid John Landis and his stupid inspiring movie.
Stupid Credence Clearwater Revival pumping through my headphones.
Stupid plot bunnies that won't let me get a decent nights sleep!
-flails and falls off office chair twitching-
Teyla had an itch, but was unsure of just how to scratch it. It irritated her to the point of madness because no matter what she did, she just could not reach it.
It was as though something was burrowing under her skin, scratching at it from beneath the surface. She itched all the way down to her toes in that way that someone who had waltzed through a field of poison ivy would have. That all encompassing itch that will not subside with even the most copious amounts of calamine lotion would not cure. She could feel it even under her nails, in her gums, on her scalp. Even her teeth felt itchy.
If she had been able, she would have gladly stripped out of her skin to make it stop. Would have torn off the flesh beneath and then scratched at her bones.
It seemed as though the itch was just under the epidermis, and for one crazy moment, she considered that clawing it off would solve the problem.
Her head jerked quickly to the source of the sound and she blinked dully a few times, her senses taking far too long for her liking to catch up with her, "Yes, Doctor Weir?"
"Are you alright?" She asked, concern evident in her tone.
Teyla looked at the Atlantis expedition leader, "I am...fine, Doctor Weir. I am merely- she paused to search for the right word to express how she was feeling, and found it after a slight bit of difficulty, "eager to go on the mission."
Elizabeth looked at the Athosian appraisingly for a moment, before she turned back to the assembled team to finish giving her orders.
The muscles in Teyla's thigh twitched as she sat, listening to Elizabeth's instructions for the team and she had to force herself to focus on the constant movement that the older woman's lips made, had to force herself to concentrate on the sound of each syllable and make sense of them.
It took a great deal of effort to try and stay focused and listen, Teyla found that the words were turning into nothing but sharp jumbles of sound that ran together, folded in on themselves, and then fell apart, making no sense whatsoever. She heard the sounds, but her brain only made connections to their meanings after a delay that she deemed far too long.
It was almost as though her native tongue was changing, if that was at all possible. Like the language she had known all her life was slowly being replaced by another.
Several words filtered through and she was able to get the general gist of what was being said.
Close to a month before, Sheppard's team had ventured to a world that was inhabited by a race of people that Teyla had never heard of before. The Nacyl were a friendly people, if a bit primitive, who had welcomed the team into their circle and agreed to ally with them. They would have been happy to trade with them when they had first arrived, but their leader Sidnal explained that the harvest festival was just beginning and their strict spiritual code forbade any kind of trade with outsiders until after it was through.
They could receive visitors, take them into their homes, share meals with them and the like, (as they had done with Sheppard's team), but they could not trade and violate the sanctity of their festival.
So, Sidnal asked if they could resume the negotiations again once their festival was finished. Of course, SGA 1 agreed, and now the specified amount of time had passed, leaving them only to return and pick up where they left off.
Sidnal. He was a warrior and diplomat rolled into one, Teyla mused. He had taken a keen interest in Teyla especially, wanting to know all there was to know about her people. She had told him a brief history of Athos and of her people, which pleased him greatly. He revealed that his own people had a similar past with the exception that his race hadn't been culled in over a century. Not even since they had reawakened once again.
She had listened with interest, curious as to how his people had managed to avoid a Wraith culling for so very long as she and the other members of her team ate with elders of the village. The food was plentiful, she remembered, and all of it more succulent than anything she could recall ever having before. She certainly hoped that they could find a good exchange for that dark bittersweet fruit that was used to make the sweet breads that had been served.
Teyla's shoulder blades shifted as she moved slightly in her chair, getting more restless as she thought about the Nacylian planet. All she wanted to do was get to there and stretch her legs. The wide open spaces there were more than inviting in her current mood.
Her muscles just ached with the need to move.
Not just move...to run...to push herself to the limit. To reach that unreachable height that she could feel pulling at the edges of her consciousness. She knew it was there, she could sense it...could feel the energy pulsing just outside her reach, taunting her, whispering to her that if she could push herself hard enough, she would reap the rewards that came with catching the elusive power.
And it was elusive. It had been dancing just out of reach for close to a month, it's call to her growing louder with each passing night, it's pull ever stronger with each setting of the sun until it was so loud that she could barely stand it.
She couldn't wait until they were through the gate and she was once again standing on open land. The city was beautiful, but right now she just needed to feel solid ground beneath her feet with the scent of grass and dirt filling her nostrils. She was certain she would find what she needed on the Nacyl's planet.
Why she was so positive, she couldn't tell, but she knew the second her feet touched the Nacylian soil, she would no longer feel the need to crawl out of her skin.
It was night on the Nacylian planet, the twin moons hanging heavy in the sky, both full and looking as though she could just reach up and touch them.
Teyla stepped away from the gate, the first breath she took filling her lungs with the sharp tang of fresh air, mixed with something cloying that she identified immediatly.
"Colonel Sheppard there is something..." She trailed off and lifted her head, closing her eyes as she breathed more deeply, trying to decide which direction the scent was coming from.
"What is it, Teyla?"
"There is something...wrong," she said after a long moment.
McKay scoffed, "Oh, that's very specific."
Her eyes flew open and she spun to look at the physicist. You would think after all the times she had saved his life he would learn to trust her instincts. "I smell something."
McKay took a step back at the strength of her glare, but couldn't keep his mouth shut, "Dirt, grass, trees, leaves, flowers, big deal."
Teyla turned again, scenting the air once more, "No. It is blood."
Sheppard, McKay and Ronon all glanced at each other briefly before looking back at her oddly.
"I don't smell anything," McKay said, narrowing his eyes as he studied her intently.
"I cannot explain it," she said truthfully, still moving her head as she tried to catch the faint elusive scent move effectively, "But it is there."
Sheppard stepped closer to her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, "Maybe we should put off this trade thing for a couple of days...until Beckett's had the chance to take a look at you, Teyla."
She snapped her head around to look at him, "I am not ill."
"I'm not saying you are, Teyla," Sheppard said carefully, not liking the way she was glaring at him in the least, "I just-"
A tree branch snapped, the sound echoing in her ears as loud as if it had happened right next to her and her body turned instinctively towards the source of the noise.
"There is someone in the surrounding underbrush," she stated, searching for any movement to be found, her dark eyes narrowed to slits.
"Teyla, you're starting to worry me-"
She didn't listen to him, just continued to watch where the area where she was certain the sound had originated.
There. That bush. It twitched.
She threw down her gun and her teammates looked at her in alarm as she took two purposeful steps foreword in the direction of the offending bush. A low rumble came from her chest, deep, threatening.
"Teyla, hold on!" Sheppard grabbed her by the forearm, stopping her.
"Release me." She demanded, her voice coming out in a growl that she didn't recognize.
Why didn't he understand? There was someone right there, watching them and there was blood in the air! Why couldn't he smell it? Why couldn't he hear the enemy? Why was he looking at her as though she were mad?
Her eyes flashed angrily as she turned to stare at her friends. They didn't see what she saw. They didn't sense the danger or understand this need that was bubbling up inside her to protect them like a wild animal protects it's young.
The bush twitched again and this time Sheppard caught sight of the movement. A dark, lumbering form immerged from the foliage, huge and slightly hunched over.
"McKay," Sheppard murmured, taking a slow step backwards, "Dial the gate."
"Already on it." Came the panicked reply which was accompanied by the sounds of the DHD being dialed.
Teyla watched as the dark form ambled towards them slowly, paying no heed to Sheppard, "Teyla, come on. Come on!"
The form stepped out of the darkness and revealed itself to be an enormous wild beast, covered in matted silver and black fur. It resembled something that Sheppard had once shown her in an encyclopedia, but she couldn't remember what it was called.
In fact, as the animal continued it's advance, she found herself not caring what anything was called anymore. All there was in the world was that thing and it's apparent malice towards her cluster of friends. She had to protect them. She had to.
The blood surged in her head, giving her a sharp pain between the eyes when she heard it snarl and she tore her arm from Sheppard's grasp.
She barely even heard his desperate cry of "Teyla!" when she shoved him away violently and launched herself in the direction of the creature with a primal roar.
The muscles in her thighs coiled and flexed as she sprang at it, hands outstretched and her elegant fingers contorted into ten sharply bent hooks that sank deeply into it's flesh.
Teyla was snarling, growling and making other noises she was unaware she possessed the ability to make as she clawed at the beast. All of her muscles were being pushed as far as she could force them as she continued to scratch and kick and bite, the itch that had been so prevalent mere hours before growing less and less pronounced as she finally addressed the violent urges that had been trying to make themselves known over the past month.
The blood rushing in her ears was all she could hear, all she could feel was the straining of her body against the monster who was intent on hurting her friends.
She fought and fought and fought, heedless of the Kawoosh! of the outgoing wormhole, completely unaware of anything other than the struggle between herself and the animal that she had her fingernails dug into.
She tore at the animal's flesh with her teeth as it grabbed her around the throat, trying to assert it's dominance over her and failing spectacularly.
The pent up energy that she had been so desperate to release was beginning to weaken as she felt the beginnings of exhaustion fighting for supremacy against her bloodlust.
"I can't shoot! I don't know which one is Teyla!"
The sound of Sheppard crying her name with such anxiety strengthened her and she fought with new resolve.
Teyla had to win. She had to. If she didn't, this monster would surely tear her friends apart.
She would not let that happen. Regardless of the cost, that must not happen.
Her teeth around the animal's throat and she ripped it upwards, hearing with satisfaction the anguished cry it let out as the rush of crimson warmth flooded her mouth.
She held fast as it tried to fight her off fruitlessly, it's struggles growing weaker and weaker with every passing second.
Teyla didn't release it until it's desperate movements ceased entirely.
She rolled her head back and let out a wild cry of triumph, calling out her victory for the whole planet to hear.
The adrenaline began to drain away from her as she stood and turned to look back at her teammates with a tired but satisfied grin on her face.
All of them had their weapons trained on her, and she was left in confusion.
Why? Why were they looking at her that way? She had saved them!
Her chest was heaving as she tried to take a step towards them, but the world suddenly started to spin like a roulette wheel in front of her eyes, leaving her disoriented.
Teyla shook her head, trying to clear it, but found that with the sharp drop in adrenaline she could no longer support her weight. She dropped to her knees and collapsed in the dirt, out cold.
The three men were silent for several seconds, left speechless by what they had just been witnesses to. Sheppard took a cautious step foreword, P90 still pointed at her head. She didn't move.
He took another step closer.
Almost all trace of the beast she had been moments before was gone, leaving her in her humanoid form, swathed in what little remained of her uniform, now torn and ripped beyond the point of recognition by the combined transformation and ensuing battle.
"Is she-" McKay looked at the unconscious Teyla Emmagen with an expression that was an equal mixture of healthy terror, worry and curiosity.
Sheppard got down on his knees and pressed his hand to her throat, searching for the tell tale pulse beneath his fingers, "She's alive. Unconscious, but alive."
Teyla's body twitched slightly and McKay took an instinctive step back while raising his weapon.
"Is she a werewolf?" He asked, all his words coming out in a whispered rush that bordered on awe.
Sheppard looked up at the astrophysicist, "Either that, or this is the Athosian equivalent of PMS."
A/N:Wahaha! I can't get away from humor in this fandom. It just takes so much more effort to write drama or horror when McKay is involved...
This was my very first Teyla-centric piece and I like it. Ah..how satisfying to make her lose complete control, while still being somewhat in control, in a very animal kind of way. Also got to have fun with spelling things backwards. Nacyl-Lycan, Sidnal-Landis. Lycan, of course, is the shortening of the more scientific (snort) term for Werewolf Lycanthrope, while Landis is for John Landis...the man who created "An American Werewolf In London" (watch it, it is hilarious..well, I think so at least, but I've got a sick sense of humor, as if you didn't know that already) which fits my image of what a Werewolf ought to look like.
I'm bound to get lots of reviews for this that are comprised of "Wtf?" moments. Blah. I still liked writing it. I actually like Werewolf!Teyla. Who knows...maybe I'll continue this storyline sometime.
Hopefully this will be my last Halloween challenge fic. Unless I can get that Zombie!Rodney tale to work...