Slide Into the Night: Chapter Ten
Title: Slide Into the Night
Rating:T
Warning(s): Language; Implied Violence
Disclaimer: Other than being a fan, I have nothing to do with Stargate:Atlantis
Prompt: This was written for the Season 4/5 Fix-It ficathon at john_elizabeth with the prompt: BASMR alternate ending: The away team on Asura finds and rescues Elizabeth. How does she deal/recover from her imprisonment?
Spoilers: Everything up to “Be All My Sins Remembered"
Summary: Janos Arany once wrote, "In love and dreams, there are no impossibilities." It's a faith that Atlantis is clinging to when the Pegasus Galaxy throws another curveball at them.
Beta: The amazing bluewillowtree who was invaluable with her input and generous with her time.
~*~*~*~*~
If I can stop one heart from breaking
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life from the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.
~Emily Dickinson
Kate knew her attention was wandering during the last counseling session before she was released back to full-duty, and she knew her own therapist knew it as well. Karen sat back with a small smile on her face, the one that conceded amused defeat, and said, “I’m not even sure you’re in the same room with me today.”
“Sorry,” she apologized, dragging her mind away from the DSM-IV-TR’s definition of C-PTSD and its differentiation from PTSD. So far, all she had was one-way observation of the situation to formulate a diagnosis, and that was a risky call to make without initiating direct communication with her patient. While she would never tell Rodney this, psychology was an inexact science, balancing facts and emotions in a delicate dance to help people find normalcy in their lives. Karen just shook her head again with a smile, accepting the apology before asking, “What are you thinking about?”
“What I need to do,” responded Kate. “The full plate I’m going to be dumping on your full plate. McKay.”
Karen laughed, “Don’t worry about it. I know how to handle him.”
“Has Colonel Sheppard told you about the lemon trick?”
“Those two… They could start an entire field in the study of resolute denial.”
Kate suppressed the urge to giggle; it wouldn’t be professional. “Quite possibly. Yes.”
“So I’ll see you in a few days?”
“I’ll give you daily updates by radio,” recited Kate, going over the support system they had hammered out over the course of several late nights, “and then briefings in person once every other day.” She gave the other psychologist a questioning look. “You do know that’s only going to end up happening once a week, right?”
“Yes,” responded Karen, “but for the sake of the IOA, we’re going to pretend that it won’t.”
Kate nodded silently in agreement. The brunette smiled gently. “It’s going to work. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not,” she responded almost automatically and then inwardly winced.
The start of her counseling sessions had been like this, a verbal game of cat-and-mouse as she had steadfastly stonewalled Karen’s attempts to get her to talk. The brunette would pose a question or a reassurance to an unspoken concern and Kate would either brush it off or pretend it was the truth, even when it was most patently not. For two people in a profession that carried a strong stigma among the majority of Atlantis’ population, it had been rather odd that the women hadn’t bonded quickly with each other and had, instead, warily circled around each other for the better part of two months before Karen managed to convince her patient and fellow psychologist that there was no hidden agenda about her role in Kate’s recovery progress.
“You sure?” pressed Karen gently at the answer, and Kate shrugged, “As sure as I’m going to get.”
She paused, wondering if she wanted to wade into the potential quagmire that her question might open up. Group therapy and the reaffirmation of a social support network were extremely important steps in treating complex PTSD, yet Kate didn’t know who she could draw upon to form that support group for Elizabeth. Well, she had her own sneaking suspicions, but she also needed to make sure that she wasn’t going to introduce destabilizing elements into Elizabeth’s recovery. People who were having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that Elizabeth was back in Atlantis…those were precisely the type of people Kate wanted to avoid.
“Don’t answer this if you feel that you can’t,” she began carefully, and Kate instantly saw her colleague’s guard go up. Hypotheticals and disclaimers tended to make any medical professionals wary, since those usually preceded fishing attempts for confidential information about their patients. Over the course of her career, Kate had heard numerous variations on the same phrase she was uttering now, and the majority of those requests were nowhere near innocuous or well-meaning. “I was just wondering if you’ve talked to Colonel Sheppard, or seen him talking to other people.”
Karen arched an eyebrow, repeating with a gently sarcastic edge to her voice, “Talking to other people?”
Kate responded with a flat look, “You know what I mean.”
“Oh, I know what you mean, but really, ‘talking to other people’?” teased Karen before she said seriously, “Not really. I know his team has been sitting together for the past couple of days, and he’s been acting normal, if a little quieter. He hasn’t come to talk to me, but then again… I’m still considered new around here.” She shrugged. “He probably doesn’t feel comfortable with me yet. Dr. Weir’s rescue has…well, I don’t think it would be a violation of confidentiality to tell you that almost no one has started dealing with the emotional fallout. I don’t think he’s talked about it with anyone, not even his team, and the nurses say that when he’s not on-duty, he’s in the isolation room.”
“Oh,” Kate hadn’t quite expected that last bit. She knew that John and Elizabeth had been very close friends-most of the command staff were, given the nature of their responsibilities-but she hadn’t foreseen that. “Does Jennifer know?”
“I don’t think Kell-” Karen caught herself in the slip, “Jennifer doesn’t have the energy to argue with him. She’s already sicced Rachel onto him, and if he doesn’t start sleeping soon, Teyla will be next. I figure once the yelling stops between the IOA and Carter, he’ll calm down.”
“That could take a while,” she pointed out. The brunette shrugged, “We’ll see.”
“How optimistic,” remarked Kate diplomatically and the other woman smirked, hearing the veiled sarcasm in those two words. The expression on her friend’s face cleared, though, and Karen took in a discreet steadying breath, an action that Kate had learned was one of the other therapist’s little tells when she was preparing to ask or do something potentially dangerous. No one, except another psychologist, would probably ever notice the giveaway action. After all, their profession required them to read the silent body language of their patients until the skill was as natural as breathing, and Kate was very good at her job.
She waited patiently, letting the silence comfortably settle, because there was clearly something on Karen’s mind. The other woman was probably trying to work up the courage or tact to ask. They were good colleagues, but not enough time had passed to let the two of them relate as trusted friends who could speak freely with each other without fear of accidental offense.
“Kate…why are you doing this?” asked Karen, and the golden-haired woman knew that her colleague wasn’t asking as her therapist, but as a concerned friend.
It was a logical question too; there was an entire list of reasons why she, of all people, shouldn’t be doing this, the first and main reason being that she herself was still coming to grips with almost being killed in two separate events within the short span of two months. No one, not even a trained psychologist who spent the majority of her time listening to other people’s struggles with mortality, could be prepared for that kind of intense emotional backlash. In the past three months, Kate had probably spent more time in the infirmary than she had in the entire four years she had been on the expedition, and it wasn’t even as a medical professional.
Her recovery was behind her now, though, and she was certified to return to duty. There was no question that she was ready to get back to work, but no one would ever imagine asking her to counsel and supervise the treatment of a highly traumatized, possibly unstable, patient as her first case. It was a ridiculous suggestion, especially since Karen was present and available to handle such a volatile situation.
But then, there were the handful of reasons Kate felt that she had to try.
She had learned firsthand the helplessness that came with being a patient, being completely dependent on the vigilance and compassion of others to get through that next moment. It was the kind of deep and unquestioning trust that she was fairly sure Elizabeth didn’t have at the moment; she couldn’t have had that sort of trust and survived while in captivity. But there was always the chance that, with a lot of time and patience under intensive therapy, Elizabeth might find that depth of faith again. After all that Pegasus had thrown at all of them, Kate thought it was worth the effort to try again, to hold onto nothing but blind hope, and just try to save a life.
She stared at the other woman for a moment, attempting to formulate her answer in a way that her friend could understand without messing up her point.
“There’s a poem by Emily Dickinson,” she finally said, knowing that the other woman was a closet poetry-lover. She recited from memory, “If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; if I can ease one life the aching, or cool one pain, or help one fainting robin unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain.”
Blue eyes met brown and Kate explained steadily, “She’s a human being and a friend. I’m still here. Why not?”
Karen looked at her for a long moment and then nodded slightly. “Then if you need anything, you know how to reach me.”
“Just a call away?” teased Kate lightly as they stood up from their respective seats. Walking her to the door, Karen shook her head slightly, a small amused smile twisting her lips, before she responded in all seriousness, “Not even. I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, I’ll be there.” The two women hugged briefly in farewell. “See you, Kate.”
“See you later, Karen,” she said, stepping out into the deserted corridor. It was nearly noon, but today was also lasagna lunch, as in real lasagna shipped from Earth. So people who would usually be going about their daily business in the city were all gathered in the mess hall, unless they were completely absorbed in their work or on duty.
It was why Kate allowed her mind to drift as she went back to her quarters, intent on finishing the latest publications about possible treatment strategies for complex PTSD. It was an extremely new distinction between traditional and complex versions of the trauma-induced disorder, so available information was on the scanty side, which was neither reassuring nor helpful. Kate wanted to remember as much of the literature as possible before she lost access to her reference book. She also turned over Karen’s information in her mind, matching it up to what she remembered of John and Elizabeth’s interactions.
Kate knew that she shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was by the news. Honestly, a person would have to be blind, deaf and dead to not realize that John and Elizabeth had had sparks flying between them for the better part of three years. Sometimes those sparks had everyone in the vicinity diving for cover, and other times, it made people wonder when the two of them would shut up and kiss each other, for goodness’ sake. Since she was neither blind nor deaf, and thankfully not dead, Kate had watched their relationship shift from merely polite colleagues to close leaders to …to something she wasn’t sure she wanted to name, even to herself.
By any standard, John and Elizabeth had been an intense pair of leaders to work around-both were fiercely independent, passionate about their duties, and carrying a cartload of baggage that they willfully denied existed. It had made some of her counseling sessions with them individually extremely “interesting” for a wide variety of reasons, and made the mandatory joint ones (specifically, after the Phebus/Thalen fiasco) rather…revealing. There was the possibility that the word “explosive” could also have been used to describe the highly-charged discussions she facilitated between John and Elizabeth. There certainly had been the awkward moments when one of them said something that the other wasn’t expecting and that had Kate wondering why the hell the two of them weren’t together already like half the city’s betting pool said they were (the other half of the city’s betting pool was putting odds on the first Weir-Sheppard baby). Still, she was Atlantis’ psychologist, not the resident matchmaker, so she refrained from giving any sort of active advice that might have pushed John into pursuing a relationship with Elizabeth or vice versa. That sort of interference was Miko’s unofficial job.
Then Elizabeth had been captured by the Asurans, and any speculation about a relationship between her and John stopped being harmlessly amusing. Kate knew of at least three fistfights that had started when people, seeing the idle gossip as highly disrespectful, reacted negatively to continued talk about the two city leaders’ love lives. Those long months had passed under the heavy storm clouds of constant uncertainty in nearly all facets of everyone’s lives. The appointment of a military commander to Atlantis had been a rude awakening to some people about the IOA’s influence on how things were done in the city. Other people spiraled around depression, fearful for their safety and that of their colleagues as missions went wrong, experiments failed, and all of those ominous events seemed to trace back to Elizabeth’s capture. The atmosphere in Atlantis had shifted, and while it was no fault of Carter’s, people had felt…lost. For most of the expedition, it was just too many losses, too close together to take. The war with the Asurans shifted into high gear, the Athosians went missing, an alien entity had gotten loose in Atlantis, then there was the memory-wiping epidemic that could have killed them all…the seemingly endless list of near-catastrophes went on. There were days of awful clarify when Kate felt that the city was doomed to fight a failed retreat, trapped in a hopeless situation with death closing in from all sides. She knew she wasn’t the only one in the city who had shared those feelings.
From her hospital bed, she had observed people coming in and out of the infirmary. Kate saw that John had turned darker over the months that Elizabeth had been gone, more solemn and grave as he went about his duties. People had looked to him for guidance in Elizabeth’s absence, and he took that responsibility very seriously. She suspected that it was because he supported Carter that the transition went as smoothly as it did. It wasn’t that people didn’t respect Carter’s qualifications to run Atlantis, but on the matter of trusting this woman to protect their lives and cherish their loyalty, the scientists and Marines alike had turned to John to be their judge of character. He had held them together on the frantic exodus from Lantea, willingly putting in more hours and more work than anyone else to make sure that they didn’t lose more people than they already had. It was because of his raw willpower, combined with the deep loyalty that expedition members had for each other, that Atlantis had survived as intact as it had.
Even today, Atlantis’ people were still slowly digging themselves out of the wreckage of their self-confidence and sense of security in the galaxy. It was going to take time before things reverted to or settled into a status of “normal” again. Elizabeth’s return had inspired hope, yes, but also reintroduced the element of instability into people’s lives, and for the people who had grieved over the news of her death, it ripped open raw wounds that had only just started healing.
So absorbed in her thoughts, Kate failed to see someone appear in her path, and it was only when she bumped into a solid body that she realized she wasn’t alone. A pair of strong arms steadied her balance and John smiled politely at her when she looked up. “Careful there, Doc.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, taking a flustered step back from him. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“It’s okay,” he said casually, tucking his hands into his pant pockets. His laid-back attitude didn’t fool her in the slightest. There was a nervous tension hiding in the lines of his shoulders. “I wasn’t paying too much attention to where I was going either.” There was a pause, and she could see him gathering up his courage to speak his mind.
“Actually, since we’re here in the same place and all,” he gestured between them with one hand, while the other hand came up to rub the back of his neck in his own version of a stress tell, “do you mind if we talk?”
“That’s fine with me,” she said, her medical training kicking in and telling her that something was up. John was a private person who preferred to deal with emotional fallout on his own. He came willingly enough to post-mission sessions when things went seriously wrong, and he didn’t shy away from introspection completely, but he was skittish on some subjects, topics that he absolutely refused to talk about in any detail whatsoever.
For him, Elizabeth was one of those taboo issues. Any discussion of their relationship was always firmly focused on the professional. However Kate always saw hints of deeper emotions in his words, especially when it came to ensuring Elizabeth’s safety. Still, she never pressed the topic, knowing that if she even brushed against the idea that he cared about Elizabeth as more than a friend and colleague, John would immediately retreat or change the topic entirely. Today, though, Kate had a feeling that something had changed. He wanted to talk with her, and she could only think of a handful of reasons that he would seek her out, of all people. She was also finding it a stretch to believe that he’d just “appeared” in the hallway right after her longstanding appointment with Karen, especially considering that tomorrow morning, she was going to sequester herself with Elizabeth 36/7 for an indeterminate period of time.
John glanced up and down the empty hallway before looking back at her, smiling bravely. “Can we talk somewhere private?”
“Of course,” she said easily, gesturing to the nearby balcony entrance. Kate saw him hesitate before he nodded in agreement, and she kicked himself for not thinking that he would associate balconies with Elizabeth. If he was already this skittish about talking with her, then Kate needed to provide him with a neutral space to talk, not an area that was loaded with memories.
The door to the balcony slid open as they approached, letting a blast of wind carrying the strong scent of the sea rush into the city. He graciously gestured for her to step out onto the terraced platform first and she suppressed the shiver of fear that raced through her as she moved past him. This was real, Kate sternly reminded herself. She could trust John with her life. She did trust him with her life on a daily basis. He would never hurt her, not willingly. There was no reason for her to panic. Nothing was going to happen to her. Still, Kate chose to stay away from the balcony’s railing, sticking as close as she could to Atlantis’ sturdy walls. Wonderful suggestion, Kate, she scolded herself, absolutely bloody wonderful idea, coming out here!
The sun was warm on her skin and she focused on keeping her breathing under control. She wasn’t going to panic and bolt for the safety of the city’s walls. Over, she chanted to herself, the dream was over, had been over for months. She was okay. She was okay, damn it, and not having a bloody panic attack right before she was going to talk to someone about her most important patient. Damn it.
Drawing on years of practice, Kate buried her emotions deep in her heart, clearing her mind to focus on the task at hand. She smoothed out her expression into her practiced mask, warm and patient with just the slightest touch of anticipation, as she turned to face John. He stood at a short distance from her, just within arm’s reach. He reached up with his left hand, probably to rub the back of his neck in one of his nervous gestures, and abruptly stopped. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets to keep himself from fidgeting. She tried not to smile at his transparent attempt to not give off more signals than he had to about his current emotional state.
They stood in silence for several minutes. She was used to the quiet between them. It was how their sessions together had always started. He would start talking in his own good time.
John finally stated, “Keller tells me that you’re going in there tomorrow.”
“Yes,” she said calmly.
He met her eyes for a moment, their gaze locking. “You think this will work?”
She gave him an honest answer. “I don’t think we have any other choice.”
John nodded once, the gesture sharp and stiff, before he broke eye contract and stared at the smooth metal of the platform. He rocked back and forth on his feet a few times, clearly struggling to make some sort of decision that he wasn’t used to making. He wasn’t by any means lacking in confidence, but there were always some choices that made even the most confident of people uncertain of themselves. Kate continued to wait.
“There’s-” John tugged something out of his pocket and held it out to her, the warm sunlight playing over the delicate silver chain. “If you think this might help…”
Kate’s eyes flickered up to meet his, instantly reading the apprehension in his eyes. She carefully took the necklace from him, feeling the warmth of the small weight in her palm. She wondered how long he had carried that with him-since Elizabeth was taken or maybe even longer?
“It belongs to her,” he said, his voice stubbornly casual when this situation was anything but. “I think she should have it back.”
She nodded slowly. “I’ll give it to her.”
The look of gratitude that slipped through his professional mask for the briefest of moments made her breath catch. It was something she was both supposed to and not supposed to see. In that moment, she understood that there had probably been a lot that she didn’t know about John and Elizabeth’s relationship, things that they kept very quiet about, things that she was never supposed to know. It changed everything, and it changed nothing.
She smiled at him, letting her gratitude show clearly in her expression. “Thank you.”
He tilted his head at her in a questioning gesture, confused by her words. “For what?”
“For caring,” said Kate simply, and she hoped that he understood more than she was saying. His lips curved slightly before he said, “Just try, Kate. That’s all I’m asking.”
“I know,” she responded quietly. “I’ll do my best, promise.”
He nodded again before the flyboy mask he presented to the world slid back into place again, “Do you want to grab some lunch, Doctor?”
Accepting that the impromptu session was over, Kate smiled pleasantly and inclined her head in agreement. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. I hear they’re serving lasagna today in the mess hall.”
As they walked back into Atlantis’ vaulted corridors together, John told her, “Supposedly, Corporal Carmine is going to prepare his mother’s special recipe for the entire city.”
“I look forward to the demonstration,” she responded sincerely, steering the conversation into the typically bland and neutral topics of life in another galaxy.
Rating:T
Warning(s): Language; Implied Violence
Disclaimer: Other than being a fan, I have nothing to do with Stargate:Atlantis
Prompt: This was written for the Season 4/5 Fix-It ficathon at john_elizabeth with the prompt: BASMR alternate ending: The away team on Asura finds and rescues Elizabeth. How does she deal/recover from her imprisonment?
Spoilers: Everything up to “Be All My Sins Remembered"
Summary: Janos Arany once wrote, "In love and dreams, there are no impossibilities." It's a faith that Atlantis is clinging to when the Pegasus Galaxy throws another curveball at them.
Beta: The amazing bluewillowtree who was invaluable with her input and generous with her time.
~*~*~*~*~
If I can stop one heart from breaking
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life from the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.
~Emily Dickinson
Kate knew her attention was wandering during the last counseling session before she was released back to full-duty, and she knew her own therapist knew it as well. Karen sat back with a small smile on her face, the one that conceded amused defeat, and said, “I’m not even sure you’re in the same room with me today.”
“Sorry,” she apologized, dragging her mind away from the DSM-IV-TR’s definition of C-PTSD and its differentiation from PTSD. So far, all she had was one-way observation of the situation to formulate a diagnosis, and that was a risky call to make without initiating direct communication with her patient. While she would never tell Rodney this, psychology was an inexact science, balancing facts and emotions in a delicate dance to help people find normalcy in their lives. Karen just shook her head again with a smile, accepting the apology before asking, “What are you thinking about?”
“What I need to do,” responded Kate. “The full plate I’m going to be dumping on your full plate. McKay.”
Karen laughed, “Don’t worry about it. I know how to handle him.”
“Has Colonel Sheppard told you about the lemon trick?”
“Those two… They could start an entire field in the study of resolute denial.”
Kate suppressed the urge to giggle; it wouldn’t be professional. “Quite possibly. Yes.”
“So I’ll see you in a few days?”
“I’ll give you daily updates by radio,” recited Kate, going over the support system they had hammered out over the course of several late nights, “and then briefings in person once every other day.” She gave the other psychologist a questioning look. “You do know that’s only going to end up happening once a week, right?”
“Yes,” responded Karen, “but for the sake of the IOA, we’re going to pretend that it won’t.”
Kate nodded silently in agreement. The brunette smiled gently. “It’s going to work. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not,” she responded almost automatically and then inwardly winced.
The start of her counseling sessions had been like this, a verbal game of cat-and-mouse as she had steadfastly stonewalled Karen’s attempts to get her to talk. The brunette would pose a question or a reassurance to an unspoken concern and Kate would either brush it off or pretend it was the truth, even when it was most patently not. For two people in a profession that carried a strong stigma among the majority of Atlantis’ population, it had been rather odd that the women hadn’t bonded quickly with each other and had, instead, warily circled around each other for the better part of two months before Karen managed to convince her patient and fellow psychologist that there was no hidden agenda about her role in Kate’s recovery progress.
“You sure?” pressed Karen gently at the answer, and Kate shrugged, “As sure as I’m going to get.”
She paused, wondering if she wanted to wade into the potential quagmire that her question might open up. Group therapy and the reaffirmation of a social support network were extremely important steps in treating complex PTSD, yet Kate didn’t know who she could draw upon to form that support group for Elizabeth. Well, she had her own sneaking suspicions, but she also needed to make sure that she wasn’t going to introduce destabilizing elements into Elizabeth’s recovery. People who were having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that Elizabeth was back in Atlantis…those were precisely the type of people Kate wanted to avoid.
“Don’t answer this if you feel that you can’t,” she began carefully, and Kate instantly saw her colleague’s guard go up. Hypotheticals and disclaimers tended to make any medical professionals wary, since those usually preceded fishing attempts for confidential information about their patients. Over the course of her career, Kate had heard numerous variations on the same phrase she was uttering now, and the majority of those requests were nowhere near innocuous or well-meaning. “I was just wondering if you’ve talked to Colonel Sheppard, or seen him talking to other people.”
Karen arched an eyebrow, repeating with a gently sarcastic edge to her voice, “Talking to other people?”
Kate responded with a flat look, “You know what I mean.”
“Oh, I know what you mean, but really, ‘talking to other people’?” teased Karen before she said seriously, “Not really. I know his team has been sitting together for the past couple of days, and he’s been acting normal, if a little quieter. He hasn’t come to talk to me, but then again… I’m still considered new around here.” She shrugged. “He probably doesn’t feel comfortable with me yet. Dr. Weir’s rescue has…well, I don’t think it would be a violation of confidentiality to tell you that almost no one has started dealing with the emotional fallout. I don’t think he’s talked about it with anyone, not even his team, and the nurses say that when he’s not on-duty, he’s in the isolation room.”
“Oh,” Kate hadn’t quite expected that last bit. She knew that John and Elizabeth had been very close friends-most of the command staff were, given the nature of their responsibilities-but she hadn’t foreseen that. “Does Jennifer know?”
“I don’t think Kell-” Karen caught herself in the slip, “Jennifer doesn’t have the energy to argue with him. She’s already sicced Rachel onto him, and if he doesn’t start sleeping soon, Teyla will be next. I figure once the yelling stops between the IOA and Carter, he’ll calm down.”
“That could take a while,” she pointed out. The brunette shrugged, “We’ll see.”
“How optimistic,” remarked Kate diplomatically and the other woman smirked, hearing the veiled sarcasm in those two words. The expression on her friend’s face cleared, though, and Karen took in a discreet steadying breath, an action that Kate had learned was one of the other therapist’s little tells when she was preparing to ask or do something potentially dangerous. No one, except another psychologist, would probably ever notice the giveaway action. After all, their profession required them to read the silent body language of their patients until the skill was as natural as breathing, and Kate was very good at her job.
She waited patiently, letting the silence comfortably settle, because there was clearly something on Karen’s mind. The other woman was probably trying to work up the courage or tact to ask. They were good colleagues, but not enough time had passed to let the two of them relate as trusted friends who could speak freely with each other without fear of accidental offense.
“Kate…why are you doing this?” asked Karen, and the golden-haired woman knew that her colleague wasn’t asking as her therapist, but as a concerned friend.
It was a logical question too; there was an entire list of reasons why she, of all people, shouldn’t be doing this, the first and main reason being that she herself was still coming to grips with almost being killed in two separate events within the short span of two months. No one, not even a trained psychologist who spent the majority of her time listening to other people’s struggles with mortality, could be prepared for that kind of intense emotional backlash. In the past three months, Kate had probably spent more time in the infirmary than she had in the entire four years she had been on the expedition, and it wasn’t even as a medical professional.
Her recovery was behind her now, though, and she was certified to return to duty. There was no question that she was ready to get back to work, but no one would ever imagine asking her to counsel and supervise the treatment of a highly traumatized, possibly unstable, patient as her first case. It was a ridiculous suggestion, especially since Karen was present and available to handle such a volatile situation.
But then, there were the handful of reasons Kate felt that she had to try.
She had learned firsthand the helplessness that came with being a patient, being completely dependent on the vigilance and compassion of others to get through that next moment. It was the kind of deep and unquestioning trust that she was fairly sure Elizabeth didn’t have at the moment; she couldn’t have had that sort of trust and survived while in captivity. But there was always the chance that, with a lot of time and patience under intensive therapy, Elizabeth might find that depth of faith again. After all that Pegasus had thrown at all of them, Kate thought it was worth the effort to try again, to hold onto nothing but blind hope, and just try to save a life.
She stared at the other woman for a moment, attempting to formulate her answer in a way that her friend could understand without messing up her point.
“There’s a poem by Emily Dickinson,” she finally said, knowing that the other woman was a closet poetry-lover. She recited from memory, “If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; if I can ease one life the aching, or cool one pain, or help one fainting robin unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain.”
Blue eyes met brown and Kate explained steadily, “She’s a human being and a friend. I’m still here. Why not?”
Karen looked at her for a long moment and then nodded slightly. “Then if you need anything, you know how to reach me.”
“Just a call away?” teased Kate lightly as they stood up from their respective seats. Walking her to the door, Karen shook her head slightly, a small amused smile twisting her lips, before she responded in all seriousness, “Not even. I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, I’ll be there.” The two women hugged briefly in farewell. “See you, Kate.”
“See you later, Karen,” she said, stepping out into the deserted corridor. It was nearly noon, but today was also lasagna lunch, as in real lasagna shipped from Earth. So people who would usually be going about their daily business in the city were all gathered in the mess hall, unless they were completely absorbed in their work or on duty.
It was why Kate allowed her mind to drift as she went back to her quarters, intent on finishing the latest publications about possible treatment strategies for complex PTSD. It was an extremely new distinction between traditional and complex versions of the trauma-induced disorder, so available information was on the scanty side, which was neither reassuring nor helpful. Kate wanted to remember as much of the literature as possible before she lost access to her reference book. She also turned over Karen’s information in her mind, matching it up to what she remembered of John and Elizabeth’s interactions.
Kate knew that she shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was by the news. Honestly, a person would have to be blind, deaf and dead to not realize that John and Elizabeth had had sparks flying between them for the better part of three years. Sometimes those sparks had everyone in the vicinity diving for cover, and other times, it made people wonder when the two of them would shut up and kiss each other, for goodness’ sake. Since she was neither blind nor deaf, and thankfully not dead, Kate had watched their relationship shift from merely polite colleagues to close leaders to …to something she wasn’t sure she wanted to name, even to herself.
By any standard, John and Elizabeth had been an intense pair of leaders to work around-both were fiercely independent, passionate about their duties, and carrying a cartload of baggage that they willfully denied existed. It had made some of her counseling sessions with them individually extremely “interesting” for a wide variety of reasons, and made the mandatory joint ones (specifically, after the Phebus/Thalen fiasco) rather…revealing. There was the possibility that the word “explosive” could also have been used to describe the highly-charged discussions she facilitated between John and Elizabeth. There certainly had been the awkward moments when one of them said something that the other wasn’t expecting and that had Kate wondering why the hell the two of them weren’t together already like half the city’s betting pool said they were (the other half of the city’s betting pool was putting odds on the first Weir-Sheppard baby). Still, she was Atlantis’ psychologist, not the resident matchmaker, so she refrained from giving any sort of active advice that might have pushed John into pursuing a relationship with Elizabeth or vice versa. That sort of interference was Miko’s unofficial job.
Then Elizabeth had been captured by the Asurans, and any speculation about a relationship between her and John stopped being harmlessly amusing. Kate knew of at least three fistfights that had started when people, seeing the idle gossip as highly disrespectful, reacted negatively to continued talk about the two city leaders’ love lives. Those long months had passed under the heavy storm clouds of constant uncertainty in nearly all facets of everyone’s lives. The appointment of a military commander to Atlantis had been a rude awakening to some people about the IOA’s influence on how things were done in the city. Other people spiraled around depression, fearful for their safety and that of their colleagues as missions went wrong, experiments failed, and all of those ominous events seemed to trace back to Elizabeth’s capture. The atmosphere in Atlantis had shifted, and while it was no fault of Carter’s, people had felt…lost. For most of the expedition, it was just too many losses, too close together to take. The war with the Asurans shifted into high gear, the Athosians went missing, an alien entity had gotten loose in Atlantis, then there was the memory-wiping epidemic that could have killed them all…the seemingly endless list of near-catastrophes went on. There were days of awful clarify when Kate felt that the city was doomed to fight a failed retreat, trapped in a hopeless situation with death closing in from all sides. She knew she wasn’t the only one in the city who had shared those feelings.
From her hospital bed, she had observed people coming in and out of the infirmary. Kate saw that John had turned darker over the months that Elizabeth had been gone, more solemn and grave as he went about his duties. People had looked to him for guidance in Elizabeth’s absence, and he took that responsibility very seriously. She suspected that it was because he supported Carter that the transition went as smoothly as it did. It wasn’t that people didn’t respect Carter’s qualifications to run Atlantis, but on the matter of trusting this woman to protect their lives and cherish their loyalty, the scientists and Marines alike had turned to John to be their judge of character. He had held them together on the frantic exodus from Lantea, willingly putting in more hours and more work than anyone else to make sure that they didn’t lose more people than they already had. It was because of his raw willpower, combined with the deep loyalty that expedition members had for each other, that Atlantis had survived as intact as it had.
Even today, Atlantis’ people were still slowly digging themselves out of the wreckage of their self-confidence and sense of security in the galaxy. It was going to take time before things reverted to or settled into a status of “normal” again. Elizabeth’s return had inspired hope, yes, but also reintroduced the element of instability into people’s lives, and for the people who had grieved over the news of her death, it ripped open raw wounds that had only just started healing.
So absorbed in her thoughts, Kate failed to see someone appear in her path, and it was only when she bumped into a solid body that she realized she wasn’t alone. A pair of strong arms steadied her balance and John smiled politely at her when she looked up. “Careful there, Doc.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, taking a flustered step back from him. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“It’s okay,” he said casually, tucking his hands into his pant pockets. His laid-back attitude didn’t fool her in the slightest. There was a nervous tension hiding in the lines of his shoulders. “I wasn’t paying too much attention to where I was going either.” There was a pause, and she could see him gathering up his courage to speak his mind.
“Actually, since we’re here in the same place and all,” he gestured between them with one hand, while the other hand came up to rub the back of his neck in his own version of a stress tell, “do you mind if we talk?”
“That’s fine with me,” she said, her medical training kicking in and telling her that something was up. John was a private person who preferred to deal with emotional fallout on his own. He came willingly enough to post-mission sessions when things went seriously wrong, and he didn’t shy away from introspection completely, but he was skittish on some subjects, topics that he absolutely refused to talk about in any detail whatsoever.
For him, Elizabeth was one of those taboo issues. Any discussion of their relationship was always firmly focused on the professional. However Kate always saw hints of deeper emotions in his words, especially when it came to ensuring Elizabeth’s safety. Still, she never pressed the topic, knowing that if she even brushed against the idea that he cared about Elizabeth as more than a friend and colleague, John would immediately retreat or change the topic entirely. Today, though, Kate had a feeling that something had changed. He wanted to talk with her, and she could only think of a handful of reasons that he would seek her out, of all people. She was also finding it a stretch to believe that he’d just “appeared” in the hallway right after her longstanding appointment with Karen, especially considering that tomorrow morning, she was going to sequester herself with Elizabeth 36/7 for an indeterminate period of time.
John glanced up and down the empty hallway before looking back at her, smiling bravely. “Can we talk somewhere private?”
“Of course,” she said easily, gesturing to the nearby balcony entrance. Kate saw him hesitate before he nodded in agreement, and she kicked himself for not thinking that he would associate balconies with Elizabeth. If he was already this skittish about talking with her, then Kate needed to provide him with a neutral space to talk, not an area that was loaded with memories.
The door to the balcony slid open as they approached, letting a blast of wind carrying the strong scent of the sea rush into the city. He graciously gestured for her to step out onto the terraced platform first and she suppressed the shiver of fear that raced through her as she moved past him. This was real, Kate sternly reminded herself. She could trust John with her life. She did trust him with her life on a daily basis. He would never hurt her, not willingly. There was no reason for her to panic. Nothing was going to happen to her. Still, Kate chose to stay away from the balcony’s railing, sticking as close as she could to Atlantis’ sturdy walls. Wonderful suggestion, Kate, she scolded herself, absolutely bloody wonderful idea, coming out here!
The sun was warm on her skin and she focused on keeping her breathing under control. She wasn’t going to panic and bolt for the safety of the city’s walls. Over, she chanted to herself, the dream was over, had been over for months. She was okay. She was okay, damn it, and not having a bloody panic attack right before she was going to talk to someone about her most important patient. Damn it.
Drawing on years of practice, Kate buried her emotions deep in her heart, clearing her mind to focus on the task at hand. She smoothed out her expression into her practiced mask, warm and patient with just the slightest touch of anticipation, as she turned to face John. He stood at a short distance from her, just within arm’s reach. He reached up with his left hand, probably to rub the back of his neck in one of his nervous gestures, and abruptly stopped. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets to keep himself from fidgeting. She tried not to smile at his transparent attempt to not give off more signals than he had to about his current emotional state.
They stood in silence for several minutes. She was used to the quiet between them. It was how their sessions together had always started. He would start talking in his own good time.
John finally stated, “Keller tells me that you’re going in there tomorrow.”
“Yes,” she said calmly.
He met her eyes for a moment, their gaze locking. “You think this will work?”
She gave him an honest answer. “I don’t think we have any other choice.”
John nodded once, the gesture sharp and stiff, before he broke eye contract and stared at the smooth metal of the platform. He rocked back and forth on his feet a few times, clearly struggling to make some sort of decision that he wasn’t used to making. He wasn’t by any means lacking in confidence, but there were always some choices that made even the most confident of people uncertain of themselves. Kate continued to wait.
“There’s-” John tugged something out of his pocket and held it out to her, the warm sunlight playing over the delicate silver chain. “If you think this might help…”
Kate’s eyes flickered up to meet his, instantly reading the apprehension in his eyes. She carefully took the necklace from him, feeling the warmth of the small weight in her palm. She wondered how long he had carried that with him-since Elizabeth was taken or maybe even longer?
“It belongs to her,” he said, his voice stubbornly casual when this situation was anything but. “I think she should have it back.”
She nodded slowly. “I’ll give it to her.”
The look of gratitude that slipped through his professional mask for the briefest of moments made her breath catch. It was something she was both supposed to and not supposed to see. In that moment, she understood that there had probably been a lot that she didn’t know about John and Elizabeth’s relationship, things that they kept very quiet about, things that she was never supposed to know. It changed everything, and it changed nothing.
She smiled at him, letting her gratitude show clearly in her expression. “Thank you.”
He tilted his head at her in a questioning gesture, confused by her words. “For what?”
“For caring,” said Kate simply, and she hoped that he understood more than she was saying. His lips curved slightly before he said, “Just try, Kate. That’s all I’m asking.”
“I know,” she responded quietly. “I’ll do my best, promise.”
He nodded again before the flyboy mask he presented to the world slid back into place again, “Do you want to grab some lunch, Doctor?”
Accepting that the impromptu session was over, Kate smiled pleasantly and inclined her head in agreement. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. I hear they’re serving lasagna today in the mess hall.”
As they walked back into Atlantis’ vaulted corridors together, John told her, “Supposedly, Corporal Carmine is going to prepare his mother’s special recipe for the entire city.”
“I look forward to the demonstration,” she responded sincerely, steering the conversation into the typically bland and neutral topics of life in another galaxy.