nosophoros

Copyright 2009 awakethepassion

All characters of StarGate and StarGate Atlantis belong to their respective writers and MGM. This is a work of fan fiction. I just want to play with them for awhile.

Chapter 11

“Where did you find him?” Alyssa Nyx looked at the pale haired girl standing next to her and frowned.

Shia gave her a timid look. “Out beyond the forest.” She raised her hand and a dreamy look came over her face. Her fingers reached out and she brushed back a lock of dark hair from the stranger's forehead. “He came on a ship from out of the sky.”

The frown on Alyssa's face deepened.

“Don't touch him.” She let out a hiss of anger and pushed the girl's hand away. Shia jerked back, holding her hand to her chest as if she'd been burned. She looked up at Alyssa, an angry look on her face and then she quickly lowered her head.

“Go and bring me the salve from the storage room.” When the girl hesitated, Alyssa took a step toward her. That seemed to break the girl from her trance and she darted away, disappearing out the door like a startled rabbit.

Alyssa waited until the girl's footsteps had faded away and then she let out a deep breath. She didn't like being mean to the girl but Shia sometimes lived in her own little world and thought about no one but herself. She should have known better than to let the girl go into the village by herself.

Trouble always seemed to hover around the girl like a dark cloud and just look at what it had rained down on her this time.

Well, it was too late now. Nothing could be done for it. She looked down at the man stretched out on her bed. It was no wonder that Shia had been so taken with him. He was a handsome enough thing even under the burns that marred his forehead and cheeks. But why did the girl have to bring every stray she found home to her?

And especially one like this?

Gently, she turned the man's head. He groaned softly when he felt the touch of her finger's on his face but other than that he made no other sound. She waited a few moments but when she touched him again, he lay still and made no move at all. A quick touch of his mind showed nothing but anger and something else...her eyes narrowed slightly. She tried to dig deeper but he was quick, closing his mind off before she touch on the thing he didn't want her to see.

She pushed harder. He was weak and unsure. It should have been easy to break through the wall guarding his mind.

“Damn it!” A mental slap of pain sent her reeling. She winced and raised her hand to her face, sure that if she looked in a mirror she would see the red print of a hand marring her cheek. She snorted lightly. Apparently, he didn't want her looking into his mind. That was no worry. With the condition he was in, Mr. Tall dark and Mysterious wouldn't be going anywhere for a few days yet. She still had plenty of time.

Lightly she ran her hands over him, sensing more than feeling what his injuries were. His broken bones had already started to knit themselves together. That was a good sign at least. She pulled the sheet lower trying not to notice how well formed he was and eased her hands under his thighs. He jerked slightly and let out a little moan as she straightened his legs. He was healing faster than she'd expected but what use would his legs be to him if they healed but stayed bent and crooked?

She had enough on her hands trying to handle Shia and her changes, she didn't need a crippled Nosophoros with a serious case of depression on her hands too.

Hearing movement behind her, she turned her head and saw Shia standing in the doorway. The girl's eyes gleamed, her hands tightening on the jar in her hand. She licked her lips and stared hungrily at the man. It had been a long time since either of them had seen a man so well...shaped. Alyssa could keep her emotions pretty well controlled but Shia could not and the sight of him excited her.

Quickly, Alyssa pulled the sheet back over him. Damn it, she didn't need this either.

“Give it to me.” She held out her hand, motioning for the jar.

Anger flashed in Shia's eyes but she reluctantly handed her the jar. She stepped to the side, trying to see but Alyssa stepped in her way. The girl's face darkened.

“I only want to look at him.” She glowered.

“You've looked at him enough.” Alyssa set the jar down on the table and turned back to the bed. She jerked her head toward the door again. “Now go and bring me some fresh hot water and some clean cloths. We need to clean the wounds that haven't healed yet.”

“Will you let me help you then?”

Don't count on it. She didn't say the words but she knew that Shia heard her loud and clear.

Shia hissed softly. “I found him, Alyssa. By rights he is mine.”

“Then you should have left him where you found him.” Alyssa whirled around, nostrils flaring angrily.

Shia took a step back. Her expression had changed. Gone was the naive girl and in her place stood the thing that Shia really was. Alyssa could feel her probing her mind, looking for a way to make Alyssa change her mind, how she could get closer to the man. Alyssa kept her mind guarded, giving the girl only the knowledge she wanted her to know.

A furious look crossed Shia's face. Her eyes grew even darker, her hands clenched into fists at her side then she turned and stalked from the room.

Alyssa let out the breath she'd been holding and then turned back to the bed. Lightly she trailed her fingers over the faint, almost invisible mark on the man's neck.

Irratus.

She raised her hand and touched the almost identical mark on her own.

~~~

Yawning, Alyssa stretched her arms over her head, feeling the tension ease from the stiff muscles in her back. She took a deep breath of the cold air and looked up at the stars burning brightly in the night sky.

A slight noise like a cough caught her hear. Turning her head, she glanced back into the shadowed room and the man lying there. His eyes were closed but she could tell from the way that he breathed that he wasn't asleep.

Alyssa chuckled softly and stepped back into the room, closing the balcony door behind her. She went to the bed and sat down next to him. She touched his face. His skin was cold but she knew that he had to be burning inside. For the last hour he had been moaning softly, tossing and turning on the bed as his body finally started to let go.

“Where am I?” He gasped and opened his eyes at the touch of her fingers on him. The room was dark, the only light coming from a single candle on a nearby table but she saw him turn his head slightly, his fever bright eyes searching her out.

A wave of despair washed over her. Anger, pain, guilt...

What was happening? What was going on? Why was he still alive?

A memory of a terrible crash, of glass shattering and the pain of the shards ripping into his flesh. Her body shook as she shared the memory with him. She could smell the smoke, hear the fire crackling and then the heat of the flames licking against his skin. And then a sudden flash of light and the hope that this was finally over. That he was finally free.

Alyssa gritted her teeth against the backlash of emotions rushing out of him. In his fevered state his mind had been ripped wide open and everything he had ever seen or felt or touched came blasting out of him.

Faces flashed through her mind. Men, women, children. People that were important to him. People that he had loved and then betrayed. Then the image of a city standing proud in the middle of a shining sea and one word that ran through it all.

Home.

Breathing hard, she fought against the rush. Trying to shield him as well from herself from the blinding pain. Finally, the wave receded and his mind quieted enough for her to open her eyes and look down at him and she suddenly felt sorry for him.

He really didn't know what was going on or what was happening to him.

“Lay still. You’ve been hurt.” She felt like she just been pushed through a narrow hole but she still managed to smile as she brushed a hand across his forehead. “It will be over soon.”

“What?” He tried to sit up. He felt a wave of dizziness that nearly made him want to throw up and he quickly laid back down. “Where am I?”

“Stubborn. I told you to lay still.”

A low chuckle, a husky, female sounding low chuckle. She had an accent too. Irish? Scottish? He couldn't tell. She moved and suddenly there was the pale shadow of a face above him but he couldn’t make out the features.

“Who the hell are you?”

“A friend. A friend who knows who and what you are.” A strong hand gripped his wrist when he tried to raise his arm. “Don't fight it. Just let it happen.”

“Let what happen?” John felt hot, like he was burning from the inside out. “What the hell are you talking about? What’s going on?”

The burning was worse. He tried to kick off the heavy blanket that was covering him but his legs didn’t want to move. It was getting harder to breathe too. He felt like he had to get out of there but he just couldn’t get his body to do what he wanted it to. A wave of nausea hit him and he covered his mouth with his hand.

“Oh,God. I think I’m going to throw up-“

“Hang on.”

A rustling sound and then a gentle pressure on his arm. Then he felt the sharp prick of a needle on the back of his hand.

“There. That should help.”

“What…” John tried to turn his head. Everything was starting to get dark again. His head felt as heavy as a bowling ball and he could barely keep his eyes open.

The gentle fingers touched him again. “Don’t fight it. Just close your eyes and go to sleep. I promise that I’ll tell you everything when you wake up.”

For once, John decided not to argue.

~~~

The room was still dark when John next opened his eyes. He raised his head slightly. He still had a slight headache but at least there was no white hot pain or gut wrenching nausea that threatened to tear him apart. He pushed back the blankets, sat up slowly and swung his long legs over the edge of the narrow bed.

Suddenly the world tilted crazily around him and he had to grab on to the edge of the mattress to keep from toppling over on his face. His fingers dug into the sheets, desperately trying to hang on.

“What are you doing?”

He heard a scraping sound and then there was someone beside him. A strong arm slipped around his shoulders and something soft brushed against his face. He leaned closer, smelling clean skin, a hint of lavender and some kind of spice.

“I don't think you're quite ready for that.” The voice laughed softly. Strong hands slid under his knees and laid him back on the bed, propping the pillows behind his back so that he could at least sit up. The cool rim of a cup was pressed to his lips and his nostrils flared slightly at the smell. “But this you do need. Drink it.”

He took a sip. The blood was still hot and laced lightly with wine. He savored the sweetness of it on his tongue and then swallowed it all in one gulp. He felt a warm glow spread through his belly and he settled back against the pillows with a soft sigh, feeling a little bit of his strength returning.

“Hungry, were you?” A hand was pressed to his forehead.

There was definitely a smile in that voice. “Yes. Thank you.” He kept his eyes closed and tried not to think about the touch of those fingers on his skin.

“You're welcome.” Cool fingers brushed sweaty strands of hair back from his forehead. “And there's no need to be ashamed. Everybody needs a little help now and then. How long has it been since you've eaten?”

“I...I can't remember.” But he did remember and that was the problem. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

“I could tell.” The voice said wryly and he felt his face getting hot again. “Don't move. I'll be right back.”

The bed moved slightly and John heard what he thought was the sound of a door opening and then the definite sound of water running. He turned his head just a little and though his eye sight was still blurry, he could make out a faint light and the dark shadow of someone moving.

Within a few minutes the woman was back. She leaned down and he felt something warm and wet against his leg. “Don't worry.” The soft voice soothed. “I'm just going to wash you.”

“I think I can handle that.” He growled softly, reached up a hand and grasped her wrist.

“I'm sure you can...later.” The woman laughed softly but she let him have the cloth.

He sat there for a few minutes and suddenly felt very stupid. He couldn't seem to get his fingers to move.

The woman laughed. “Maybe you should take this instead. Hold it with both hands. It will be easier.”

The cloth was pulled out of his hand and a cup shoved into it instead. She gripped his other wrist and pulled his hand up, helping him wrap his fingers around the stem so that he could hold it without dropping it. He raised it to his lips, stomach grumbling at the smell of more of the wine laced blood.

“What's wrong with my hands?

“Don't gulp it this time.” The woman chided him. “Drink it slowly or you'll make yourself sick. And your hands are burned. But don't worry. They're healing nicely.”

“Who are you?” He swallowed a mouthful of the sweet liquid. “And why do you talk like-”

He stopped and she could feel his indecision. “You're human.”

It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

“I used to be.” She wiped the cloth over his chest. “And as for your other question. It's because I am.”

“How do you what I was gonna ask?” He stiffened. Reaching up he gripped her wrist and pushed her hand away. “What are you? A mind reader or something?”

“Or something.” Her lips quirked slightly.

“Okay.” He tried to sit up. “I don't know what the hell is going on and right now I'm not sure that I wanna know. But I think that I need to get out of here and get out of here now.”

“And do what?” She asked harshly. “I don't think you're gonna get anywhere when your ship is a twisted heap.”

“What do you know about my ship?” He asked coldly.

“More than I want to know.” She snapped back at him.

“I thought you said that you were a friend.” He snarled.

“I am. Otherwise you'd be dead by now.” She pushed him back roughly. “Or maybe I should say, deader than you already are.”

He turned his head in her direction, blinking his eyes. Little by little his sight was coming back. In the candle light, he saw the curve of her face and the gray eyes that regarded him coolly. Her hair was a mass of auburn curls, pulled back in a loose pony tail to reveal a slim, pale neck.

She would have been pretty if it hadn't been for the scowl on her face.

Her chin angled up. “And don't flatter yourself into thinking that I'm afraid of you.”

“I wasn't thinking that.”

Her lips tilted into a sardonic grin. “I know.” She balled the rag into her fist. When she raised her eyes head and looked at him, he thought he saw a hint of sympathy lurking there.

Anger flashed through him. “I don't need your pity.”

“And I'm not giving it to you.” She stared into his eyes. “But I am offering you a place to shelter. A place to recover while your wounds heal and your change is...complete. After that...” She stood up and turned to leave but then stopped and looked back down at him. “After that, I don't give a damn where you go.”