Author's Note: Hey y'all! Shadow's back, in his own little story! Quick refresher course in how to pronounce Nixtahuec: x=sh, hua=wha, emphasis on the first and fourth syllable. So, Nixta = NEESH-dah, Tilahuaxutzli = TEE-lah-wha-ZHUTZ-lee, Nixtahuec = NEESH-dah-whek, Ixlatecutl = EESH-lah-teh-KOOT-ul. Hey, had to put my anthropology/archaeology/linguistics classes to work somehow. =.=

Shadow's Tale

Chapter 1

I wander the empty corridors of the Ancient's city, but I am not alone. There is a presence with me, and I hear her voice whispering in the darkness. I should be feeling her lips on the curve of my ear, her breath and heat on my skin she is so close, but I do not. But the voice is there, tempting me. Come with me, my child, she breathes and I shudder. I will show you my deepest secrets. The voice is smooth, seductive, caressing. It pulls the strength from my limbs and I sink to my knees onto the cold, cold floor. I will give you purpose beyond that which you were simply created for. I shake my head vehemently as the weight of her words push me down further. There is a sharp stab of pain in my throat and I focus on that. I fight to keep my eyes open, for if I close them I know I am lost. I can make you whole. "No," I growl out, and fur ripples along my body as I try to push away from the floor. I can make you like your Creators. That gives fuel to my spark of defiance and I feel the Change sweep over me. With it comes white-hot pain that gives me clarity. The voice tries one last time to entice me, and for a moment I want nothing more than to close my eyes and let it carry me away from the pain. I growl, and the explosion of agony draws everything back into focus, back into the reality of my artificial existence. Another voice intrudes, and even though it is raised in anger, it gives me more comfort than the seductive tones of the other.

"Bloidy, hell, lad! I need ya to change back to human now! Damn it, where is that sedative?"

"Here, doctor."

A wave of coolness starts in my left arm and calms the fight in me. I sink back in exhausted relief and will the Change again. More pain blossoms in my throat, but the coolness keeps my reaction down to a moan and a few ripples of fur along my arms and back. I can feel a rippling warmth along my throat and shoulder that isn't fur, however, and a part of me wonders if that is … wrong.

"Prep him for surgery – we need tae close that wound again."

The cadence of that voice is soothing, relaxing, and soon I tumble back into quiet darkness again.

oOo

I am back in the garden, the harsh artificial light from the Temple turning everything flat and colorless. But the scents are strong despite the rain and I can track my enemies without any problem or hesitation. The little ones die easily – their throats tear like new leaves, their weapons break like children's playthings under the arc of my heavy spear. The larger ones fight viciously, and have weapons that sting like maddened wasps and tear flesh away in chunks. But they fall, too, and their throats offer the same satisfying salty spurt as my fangs bury in them and I shake my head. The last one to fall gazes up at me from the ground, his arm hanging all but useless by his side and the smell of his spilled blood driving me insane. But his eyes are not full of fear of his impending death – they are full of a hot defiance that makes the fur along my neck and spine bristle and my penis stiffen. "Don't do this to yourself, kid," he says through his pitifully flat teeth. His voice is firm, commanding, and far from pleading. Do this? To myself? I roar and lunge forward to take his throat, but his hand comes up, and in a flash of pain my own throat tears open. I blink in amazement at the obsidian blade in his hand, then my fangs find their mark and I shake my head furiously before my own strength fades.

My eyes snap open to unfamiliar lights and scents that burn my nose, and there is something in my throat that makes me gag. I start to panic, and my claws shred the cloth under me before a familiar voice intrudes again. "Ah, Christ, lad." There is the sound of a heavy sigh and I feel pressure against my throat. I tense, ready to strike, but a face I recognize comes into view. "There, son – you're all right. You were havin' a nasty dream." The pressure eases and I see tired blue eyes narrow in concern. "Och, at least yae did it this time in post-op. We'll get yae fixed up right as rain, but I need yae to stay in human form. Can yae do that for me?" I try to nod, and he must feel the faint movement because his eyes soften. I close my own eyes and will the Change, and the pain makes everything go dark again.

oOo

I come out of a dreamless sleep to scents both familiar and foreign and an annoying sound filling the background. It takes me longer than I like to realize it's artificial and not a bird. I part dry lips and take in each breath slowly to give my mind time to wake and identify who is with me. Breathe. Ah, Sheppard is here, and very close. Breathe. The tall warrior, Ronon, is nearby as well. Breathe. Taste. Breathe. Teyla and Tlaxul are in this room, too, so is the one they call Lorne. And the doctor's scent overlays everything with a comfortable presence that makes me relax. I open my eyes slowly, and it takes several blinks before I can focus them. But when I do, I see Tlaxul in a bed across from me, his tiny frame seeming to float amidst the white of the bed clothes. He is watching Teyla with a distracted smile on his face that reminds me of one of his young sons mooning over Kelu and Xelu when they dance in the firelight. Teyla is in an intense, quiet discussion with Ronon as they stand near the foot of Sheppard's bed. I am afraid to move my head because of the pain in my throat, so I carefully roll my eyes to look at my source. I can just barely see his profile so I move my head a fraction and am relieved the pain doesn't grow. I am not relieved at what I see, however – his skin is so pale the hollows around his eyes and mouth have an almost luminescent tint to them. I saw the wound the First One inflicted on him, and I cannot tell from my angle if he still has an arm.

"Tilahuaxutzli, you are awake!" Tlaxul says, his words slurring in a happy, drunken cadence from pain medication. "It is about time." He delivers the last like he is scolding one of his children.

I look his way and offer a faint smile. "I am," I reply, and I want to say more but the pain makes me snarl in silence and squeeze my eyes shut. My entire body convulses with the effort to keep from Changing out of pure reflex, and that only exacerbates the pain. But the struggle is short – I am so weak I am soon just lying there, panting and covered in sweat. I feel warmth on my arm and I open my eyes to see Teyla standing next to me. She gives my arm a gentle squeeze.

"Carson is on his way," she says and gives me a smile as warm as her touch.

I only blink in reply because I am afraid to speak. My breath is still coming in gasps and overloading my sense of smell. I swallow cautiously to try to clear the scents, but it doesn't help and just brings another wave of pain. After a moment I lift a shaky hand and cautiously feel the heavy bandages at my throat. The faintest pressure is agony.

"Here, now, don't be messin' with that," Dr. Beckett says as he comes from somewhere off to my right. Teyla steps out of his way just as I lower my hand to my chest. "I didn't expect you tae be awake," he continues as he checks my throat in concern. I blink slowly and realize I won't be awake for much longer as my adrenalin fades. He sighs faintly and nods to himself. Then he studies the annoying machine and makes an adjustment to another. "There – that should help with the pain." My eyes close for a moment, and when I open them again I see him injecting something into the tubing that runs into my left hand. He sees my concerned glance and pats my arm. "Just something tae help you stay relaxed so your throat can heal."

I nod faintly as my eyes close. "Sorry," I whisper, and even that breath of a word makes my throat feel like it is full of obsidian shards. I feel like I am being forced down into the bed and both the pain and the doctor's voice recede. For just a moment, however, I hear another voice calling to me from the darkness, its longing making me gasp and shudder. Then there is silence.

oOo

It is an odor that awakes me the next time. Somebody's breath, to be exact. It reeks strongly of that bitter drink Sheppard had me try and something sweet. And it is very close. My eyes snap open and I see the loud, annoying one standing over me, his face perhaps three hand-spans from mine as he intently studies my own. His eyes widen and he flinches back with a surprised cry that is almost feminine in its pitch. I can't help the faint smile that comes to my face. Then I hear Tlaxul laugh and that makes my smile widen.

"I'm glad you're amused," Rodney says to Tlaxul, even though my hunter cannot understand a word he says. "I could have had a heart attack."

"Now, now, Rodney – you're blood pressure isn't that bad," Beckett says. "Yet."

I feel lethargic, heavy, and know I've been asleep for a long time. I turn my head toward Beckett and am grateful the pain is minimal. His smile is reassuring as he disconnects equipment from the various leads running from me.

"How are yae feeling, lad?"

I swallow cautiously and am relieved the pain is almost tolerable. "Much better," I say. My voice is barely recognizable to my ears. "And hungry."

Beckett chuckles. "I expected as much." He takes a tan box off a stand and sets it between my feet, then he snaps a clear yellow one that is connected to the other to the pole at the foot of the bed. I see tubing running from it to my hand, and a moment later the first machine makes an odd whirring/hiss. "We'll see about getting you some soft food, providing your healing abilities have worked on that damage tae your throat." I grimace in embarrassment and the doctor's expression softens. "Nightmares from anesthesia are common – don't feel bad about something you couldn't control."

But I can control it, the Change, and his words offer little comfort.

At my continued frown the doctor gives my arm a squeeze. "Unlock the wheels on that side, Rodney," he says, his hand still resting on me. Rodney sets the black tablet he's always carrying on the bed by my hip and does as he's told, for once. I glance towards Sheppard as they maneuver me into the isle between beds. His color has improved, but that is all I can register before he is blocked from of my range of vision by Rodney.

As they start to roll the bed away I see Tlaxul partially sit up, his face a mask of worry. "Tilahuaxutzli? Where are you going?"

"I will be back," I say to him in our language and grimace again. Then I look up at Beckett. "I will be back?" I ask barely above a whisper. I put a hand to my throat, and Beckett simply pulls it back and sets it on my chest. "Where am I going?" I catch movement from the corner of my eye and I turn to see the one called Lorne watching me. He raises his right hand to his temple, two fingers extended, then waves them toward me. I'm not sure what that gesture means, but it doesn't seem insulting. I lift my eyebrows briefly, and my chin raises a bit as well. The expression on the man's face becomes equal parts pain and amusement.

"We were discussing how you have a link with the Temple this morning over breakfast," Rodney says and nods towards Beckett. "And I had an idea."

"Actually, I had the idea," Beckett mutters.

"Well, okay – yes. You had the idea," Rodney says and rolls his eyes. "But I found the proof." Rodney pauses at Beckett's weary sigh. "Anyhow, Radek and I went back to the Temple this morning and ran a quick diagnostic on the cloning equipment." I grow very still as my pulse races. The loud one doesn't notice my distress at the mention of my … birth chamber, but Beckett does. His hand briefly settles on my shoulder as Rodney continues. "And Carson's hunch turns out to be correct. Some of the filaments used in the download process were truncated." As we enter into a larger room he finally looks down at me. I must look threatening then, though I certainly don't feel it, because I see his eyes dilate faintly and can smell fresh sweat as he notices my reaction for the first time. "And, um, ah … we, ah, think they may still be in your brain," he finishes quickly and backs a step away from the bed. Then he darts forward again and retrieves his tablet.

"Rodney and Radek have reconfigured the medical scanner to pick up the silica matrix of the filaments," Beckett tells me as he locks the wheels. "That way we can map the little buggers' location and determine if there will be any side effects, if any, in the long run."

My previous irritation is being replaced by anxiousness as the scanner is moved into position over me. I glance around as best I can and see other people in the room. Several I recognize, most I do not, and the warring scents have me overwhelmed at the moment. Beckett motions a woman over. She is as short as the Nixtahuec and shaped like a gourd, and her long dark hair is shot with silver. Her scent temporarily overpowers all the others, and for some reason it reminds me of clean earth and new leaves. "This is Dr. Vandenheiden – she spoke with you earlier when you had the seizure."

"Hello, young man," she says, and her face brightens in a smile that is so open and friendly I relax and find myself smiling back. "This test may help solve the mystery of your earlier seizure." My face must reflect my suddenly panicked thoughts, because her smile softens and she rests her hand on mine. "Oh, no – don't worry. I still believe that earlier incident was a onetime deal; your previous scans showed normal, healthy brain tissue, and so have subsequent ones ever since. You're fine."

I suddenly recall that incident, and for a moment I am back in the control room of the Temple, images from the Ancient database swirling around me and through me. I have accessed information from it before, but not at the speed or quantity of that day. And I do not plan to do that again, either. It was very disconcerting, and I could feel myself getting … lost. Fur rises momentarily along my spine at the memory. "That is good to hear," I say as softly as I can, but it still hurts. I squeeze my eyes shut and try very hard not to swallow, and a moment later I hear Beckett asking someone to fetch some ice chips.

"Ready when you are, Carson," Rodney says from somewhere behind me.

"A moment, Rodney."

A new scent comes over me, and this one stirs up memories that thankfully my body is too weak to respond to at the moment. I take in a deep breath, lips parted, and the taste of Carrie does raise fur briefly along my arms. I hear someone draw in a surprised breath – I suspect it is the neurologist. I open my eyes and see Carrie standing next to Beckett – she is blushing faintly as she hands the doctor a small cup. I don't realize I'm grinning somewhat drunkenly until she darkens and briefly lowers her eyes. Beckett glances back and forth between us and sighs heavily. This causes Carrie to retreat, but not after a slow smile that makes more fur rise, this time along my stomach.

"Oh, lordy," Beckett says as he shakes his head. "You, young man, are in no condition to let your hormones rage right now. Settle." His words are soft, but the entire room hears them and there is a chorus of quiet chuckling.

"Yup, he's Sheppard's clone, all right," Rodney mutters, and there is more soft laughter.

"You settle, too," Beckett snaps his way, but the dimples he shows with the comment belie his annoyance. Then my own embarrassment is short lived as he spoons some ice into my mouth. I swear my eyes roll back briefly at the cool trickle that makes its way down my abused throat. "Better?" Beckett asks. I sigh and nod, and he gives me some more ice once that first merciful amount is gone. Then he nods to Rodney. "All right, let's begin."

Beckett stays by my side but Dr. Vandenheiden smiles and gives my hand a pat before she goes to study the displays that start to come up. While Beckett is still close I ask very softly, "How is Sheppard?" The doctor hesitates so I add, "Please, be honest – I saw his wound. Did he lose his arm?"

"No, lad, he didn't," Beckett replies just as quietly. "But it was a near thing." He draws his lips in and I can see the turmoil behind his eyes. "Even with extensive physical therapy, I don' think he'll ever regain full use of it."

Even though there is still the hum of equipment, a heavy silence falls over the room. "Does he know?" My voice cracks painfully and Beckett spoons more ice into my mouth.

"I haven't told him, yet," he replies miserably. "But I'm certain he suspects something is wrong."

I lift my chin briefly then settle back into the pillow. I have already made up my mind to try something once my strength is back. My people owe him and his people a debt of gratitude that no amount of fruit or fresh meat can ever equal.

The morose silence is broken by Dr. Vandenheiden's pleasant voice. "You boys did wonderful! These reading are excellent."

"Eh, they could be clearer," Rodney says offhandedly.

"Nonsense," the neurologist replies. "This is exactly what we need."

"I think I can sharpen the imaging," Zelenka says from somewhere behind me. My eyebrows rise briefly – I didn't know the scientist was with us. He is another who I enjoy hearing speak. I sniff the air a few times. Ah – there is his scent. How could I have missed it? It is such a distinctive one, one that brings to mind sharp spice and the air before a thunderstorm. "There," he says. "How is that?"

Beckett grunts softly in surprise, then glances down at me, his eyes bright. "Excuse me a moment, lad." He sets the cup by my hand before he leaves. A moment later I hear him say, "Bloidy hell." But the inflection is more of awe than irritation. "How many …."

"Looks like, oh, twenty," Rodney says after a pause.

"They seem to be clustered around the hippocami," Beckett adds.

"Yes," Vandenheiden replies. "That makes perfect sense." The excitement in her voice makes her sound quite young. "Can you enhance this area?"

While they focus on the scans I wish I could see, I pick up the cup of ice. My hand only has a minor shake as I pluck out the spoon and drink some of the ice melt. The machine between my feet whirs again, and this time I notice the effects of whatever medication it pumps into my system a moment later. I start to feel like I'm floating in my fountain, so I lower the cup, close my eyes, and imagine that I am. I must have dozed off shortly after that, because the next thing I'm aware of is the bed moving. I come awake with a faint jerk that startles both Beckett and Rodney. "Are they finished?" I ask, and wince at the sound of my own voice. It is even worse.

"No, but you were, lad," Beckett replies, his dimples showing.

Rodney snickers briefly. "Radek and I want to see if we can reconfigure a hand-held scanner to test signal sensitivity of your, um, antennae. We should have it ready by morning."

I do not like the sound of that, and I definitely do not want the city to be any more aware of me than she already is. That thought actually frightens me. It must show on my face because Beckett says, "I'm sure it will be completely painless." Then I see him flash a warning frown to Rodney, and the scientist nods his head in agreement rather spastically. That doesn't instill much faith in me, but it has nothing to do with the scientist's abilities so I pretend to be comforted.

We are back in the infirmary, and this time I do get a good look at the machines hooked up to Sheppard as they push my bed back into place. His vitals are strong considering the injury, and that gives me hope for what I plan on trying. While Beckett reconnects the various leads I watch Rodney as he stops by Sheppard's bed and just stares at the man. His emotions are quite obvious, and I can smell the stress of them on his sweat. "He will be fine," I say.

Rodney snorts. "Yeah, well, he better," he says quite angrily, as if the man's injuries were a personal affront to his own wellbeing.

"He will be," comes Lorne's voice from the other side Sheppard. "Don't ya know, doc - his middle name is Timex."

The two men with me chuckle, but I don't understand the reference. But Rodney sighs, and I see some, but not all, of the tension ease from him. Then he glances at Beckett, and for a brief second his mask of constant irritation slips and I see the true worry underneath. "You'll keep me posted?" he asks the doctor.

"You know I will, Rodney."

Rodney's hands come up briefly and twitch with nervous energy. He sees me watching him, and the hands suddenly find use in adjusting his jacket. He sets his mouth in a crooked grimace and does an odd little lift to his chin before he turns to stomp purposefully from the infirmary. He is such an odd, intense man.

Beckett retrieves the box from between my feet and reattaches it to its stand. "I'm supposing you'll be wanting some lunch now that we're done messin' around," he says to me as he attaches the other box as well.

I nod as enthusiastically as my throat allows. "Eggs would be good." Red meat would be better, I think, and my mouth waters. "And angel food cake?" I add hopefully.

"Hmm."

That sound does not fill me with hope.

"Let's see." Beckett gently takes my chin between his thumb and first finger and turns my head. He watches my face closely as he applies a little more pressure and lifts my chin. I try to keep my face immobile, but my eyes betray me and squint down briefly. Then he runs his fingers along my jaw and asks me to open my mouth as wide as I can. That brings tears to my eyes and a sheen of sweat to my entire body. "Um hmm. Chewing it out of the question. I'm afraid it'll be protein shakes for you for awhile. And thin ones at that."

I try not to look disappointed. At least it will be protein.

"I'll get a couple sent over to yae right away," he says and pats my leg before he leaves.

I settle back into the pillow and gently hold a hand to my throat. The ache is nauseating and temporarily kills my hunger. I glance towards Tlaxul and see the hunter is sound asleep, and part of me is glad he is. Then I hear a low groan to my left and I turn my head to look at Sheppard. He is obviously dreaming – his eyes dart underneath pale lids and his right hand is twitching. His heart monitor speeds up as well and soon his face is covered in a fine sheen of sweat. There is movement beyond him, and Lorne sits up and swivels his legs around to hang off the side of his bed.

"Doc is keeping him pretty doped up," he says. I can't tell if his grimace is from his own pain or for Sheppard's. "Not a good sign," he mutters to himself.

Beckett and a nurse show up a moment later, and I don't know if they were alerted by the sound of the monitor or if they have equipment elsewhere to let them know our condition. The doctor only flashes Lorne a minor frown before he is adjusting the tube on Sheppard's side. There is a small hiss of air while the nurse quickly changes out a small bag from another clear box like mine. I hear a few soft beeps, a whirr, and within a few seconds the heart monitor slows its desperate cadence. And only after Sheppard is sleeping quietly again does Lorne settle back into his bed.

"Bloidy hell," Beckett mutters softly and runs a hand down his face. He sees me watching and offers an apologetic shrug to me, and a raised finger of warning to Lorne, before he leaves. I'm hoping he is going to get some rest – the exhaustion I can see and smell on him concerns me.

A short time later the protein shakes arrive. They are overly sweet and absolutely vile, and I cannot understand how something that is wet can also be so incredibly dry. I choke them down, the second one literally, and even though they aren't meat they do fill the void in my belly. I fall asleep again shortly thereafter, and at least in my dreams I get to feast on fresh Ixlatecutl.

End Note: Poor woobie kitty - no Fancy Feast for him. Carson is a meanie...