Author: Porthos

Spoilers: Lost Boys/Hive

Summary: Teyla's withdrawal from the enzyme has painful effects, both physically and personally. McKay/Teyla friendship (UST if you squint), Teyla/Sheppard angst, Lost Boys tag.

Author's notes: In LB, Teyla says, "They were an hour late delivering our doses yesterday and I felt awful." After watching Teyla go through withdrawal with Ronon while on the Hive ship, I wondered if anyone was with Teyla the first time around, on Ford's planet. Thus, this fic was born. Angsty Teyla POV. I've hardly had any experience doing angst, and even less doing Teyla POV, so this is truly a first for me. Hope it doesn't blow up in my face…

oOo

I strive to ignore the rising bile in my throat as I also attempt to ignore my ever-present looming "companions." If only the enzyme they administered were as easily on hand, I would not be feeling this way.

It seems as though I have been sitting here for hours, waiting for my next dose of the Wraith enzyme, although it has more likely been only minutes. I am starting to sweat, and my hands have begun shaking. There is a distant pounding in the back of my mind, and it only adds to my mounting anxiety. I clench my jaw and close my eyes against the tendrils of fire that have begun stinging my insides.

My sense of time seems to slip away as I meditate to dull the pain. The next thing I am aware of is a loud, grating voice interrupting my solace, as well as the return of the pounding in my head.

"What do you mean, there's no more enzyme?" Dr. McKay demands. "I have extremely difficult work to do, and I can't do it if I'm unconscious. Now I'm sure this is difficult for your poor tripped-out brain cells to process, but you have your own do-it-yourself crackhouse here, right? So go back into your little store room and get a couple of syringes full of happy-juice, now!"

McKay's commands seem to fall on deaf ears, as the guard just gives him a brief, listless glance before returning to the game he is playing with the other guard. I can see the beginnings of another tirade, so I decide to speak up before my headache can get any worse. "Rodney," I say, my voice sounding rough, though I can barely hear it past the throbbing in my ears. Even the act of speaking is difficult.

"What?" he shouts, whirling on my position. Immediately, his face softens, and I can see his rage melt away. He blinks at me as though he was unaware of my presence. "Teyla? How long have you been here?"

"I am…unsure." I wince slightly as my insides twist up briefly into a knot, then slowly release.

Rodney sits beside me, and I know without looking at him that he is examining my appearance. "Are you alright?" His fingertips graze lightly over my fists, and I glance down to see that my knuckles are white. It takes several tries, but I am eventually able to relax my hands and press my palms flat to the table in front of me. My breathing has become ragged, and I can feel tendrils of hair sticking to my forehead as sweat drips down the side of my face. When Rodney speaks again, his voice is laced with an edge of panic. "When was the last time you were due for an enzyme dose?"

It is a struggle just to turn my head and meet McKay's worried blue eyes. "I believe it was…some time ago," I manage to croak.

Rodney is immediately at his feet and addressing the guard, a note of urgency in his voice that it did not previously possess. "Look, you need to get her something. She doesn't look so good."

"Can't do it." The guard doesn't even look up from his game.

"I don't see why—"

McKay's outburst is cut short by my stifled cry of pain. I feel a stab of white hot pain rip through my insides, and all thought dies away as I focus on the stars that dance against the black background of my vision. When the pain subsides momentarily, I realize Rodney is calling my name. I open my eyes and am greeted by a hand tightly clasping mine and another on my shoulder. Right now it is the only thing keeping me upright.

"I am fine, Rodney." I squeeze his hand and try to sound strong, despite the waver in my voice.

"Of course, you always look this pale and strung out when you're 'fine.'" Rodney's tone is sarcastic, but his expression is one of barely controlled panic. "We need to get you some enzyme, but Tweedle Dumb and Dumber don't seem too willing to go get it for us."

"There is a batch of enzyme going through the last stages of processing now. We have no choice but to wait." I wipe the sweat from my face with a trembling hand.

"I don't understand, I thought they had an unlimited supply of this stuff!"

I grapple with my rising nausea, but I am eventually able to speak, though my words come between harsh breaths. "The Wraith can only produce a small amount of enzyme in a given time. I believe Aiden's men were a bit overzealous in their use of the drug."

"Greedy bastards," McKay exclaims, although I notice he does not say it loud enough for the guards to hear. "Someday, somebody's going to give them exactly what they deserve."

The thought gives me comfort. "I look forward to that day," I say weakly.

I glance at Rodney, and notice he is gazing at me with a small smirk. I surprise myself when I am able to immediately read his thoughts, although I suppose we have spent enough time together that I should expect this to be second nature by now. I know he expects that I will be the one to give retribution to the guards when the time comes. I feel a flash of pride at Rodney's confidence in my abilities, even as he sees me in such a weakened, frail state. I try to manage a small smile, but the pain grips me again. I have just enough warning to lean away from the table and McKay before the nausea overtakes me, although I am distantly aware of Rodney's hand gently rubbing my back in comfort.

The agony passes, and I must blink a few times to clear my vision. I realize that I am crying, but I don't think I have enough energy to stop the tears. I lean my head against the back of the chair and try to control my shallow breathing. I feel a dry, cool cloth on my face, and I realize that Rodney is using his pocket handkerchief to wipe the tears and sweat from my face. I open my eyes and I see him standing over me, lips drawn into a thin line of frustration and worry, focused on his task. I want to thank him, but I'm too drained, so instead I let my eyelids slip shut.

"What can I do?" I can tell from his voice that he feels useless. He is used to being able to fix things, to take the problem apart and put it back together, and the fact that he cannot help me is irritating him.

I reach up and grasp his wrist as he continues to wipe my face. I pull his hand into my lap, and whisper, "What you are doing is enough." He seems to silently accept this, as he pulls his chair closer to mine and takes my other hand. We sit there for some time, our steady silence interrupted by the sporadic pain of withdrawal. He clutches my hands as we ride out my waves of torment, and he occasionally checks my vitals when I have been still for too long. I pray to the Ancients that my body will soon be returned to my own control.

Eventually, from somewhere outside of myself, I feel a slight pinprick at the inside of my left elbow. The result is almost immediate. I can feel strength returning to my limbs, and the numbness of my mind and body seems to recede into the background. I am still consumed by a dull ache, but it is only enough pain to rival that of a strenuous workout. I glance at Rodney before he is given his dose of the enzyme, and I notice that he too seems pale and shaky, but I am glad that he did not suffer the same withdrawal symptoms. I briefly wonder how I would have coped had I been forced to go through these withdrawal symptoms alone, but I decide not to dwell on that scenario. I am just thankful that Rodney was here with me.

oOo

Author's notes 2: I know that was short, but there's a second part coming up dealing with Teyla and Sheppard's relationship after this whole fiasco. I haven't written it yet, but if you like this part, let me know, and I'll write it. :D