"Ghost in the Machine" Tag
Title: Grace
Author: writerjc
Words: 1,400
Genre/Rating: Gen, PG
Spoilers: Tag to Ghost in the Machine. Possible spoilers through season 4.
Disclaimers: These folks totally aren't mine. Just playing in the sand box.
Summary: A Weir point of view tag.
AN: I really debated writing and posting this anywhere. Maybe smarmy? It's been a little while since I've written anything in the SGA universe. I just happened to hear Sarah McLachlan's "Full of Grace" after watching this episode and this kinda wanted to be written. I hope it's okay to post here. Not beta-ed as I don't currently have one. Hope this works.
Grace, noun: moral strength: the grace to perform a duty.
The initial shock of space was chilling. Cold, like a million tiny fractures across smooth replicator skin, dead and dying from frostbite. I hadn’t expected that a collection of nanite parts would feel pain or sorrow or guilt, but like everything else since I’d took this form, even frozen death crept in with a brutal sort of clarity.
Deep within I found that place that was still warm and able to move despite the stiffness that slowed my internal processes. That place that was still her, still me. Still Elizabeth Weir. There is where I drew the strength to do what I needed to do. Driven by sheer human determination, I sent the ‘all clear’. My last act is one of betrayal against those most like myself in behalf of those that I have loved.
I won’t regret this, I can’t. It is the good choice, one I knew I had to make the moment I processed John's words in that darkened corridor.
The memory was there, crystal clear. Each nuance perfectly preserved and effortlessly recalled. I heard again the pounding of his heart from increased adrenaline, registered anew his disappointment at my duplicity. I had no fear of the 9 mm pointed in my direction; my worry was for doing what I did automatically - to negotiate agreeable terms between two factions. I didn’t want to lose the ground we had gained. I knew John would agree, he only needed to be made to understand that I had everyone’s best interest at heart, that this could still work. They would do this for me and on the strength of our past relationship.
"You may still think you're Elizabeth, but you're not."
Everything shifted. His words cut to the crux of the matter. Yes, John Sheppard had a way of making me see the things that I sometimes became too focused to see. Like the need to make new friends in the Pegasus galaxy, and necessity of rescuing our captive people from the Wraith.
Elizabeth Weir had not wanted to be kept alive by replicator nanites, even severely limited ones. I hadn’t wanted to be kept alive that way. Somewhere in the process of survival I had forgotten that. This was not a diplomatic mission to unite peoples. I had allowed replicator needs to become more important than the needs of my friends, than the needs of Atlantis.
This . . . situation, this stand off, was not the Elizabeth either of us knew. And I remembered her, and meant to honor their memory of her.
Koracen must have suspected my change of heart, because in the brief distraction of the city’s power returning, he attacked. With replicator speed he relieved John of both his weapons and tossed him against the wall, leaving him to collapse to the floor. But he underestimated me; didn’t realize the depth of my emotional ties to these people. He couldn’t. Koracen had never been human.
Koracen was an unstable influence in the galaxy that could not be allowed to remain. I ended him.
The look on John’s face was one that I’d never thought to see directed toward me. He hesitated for the briefest moment before taking the hand I offered to help him to his feet. That was the beginning of the end that brought me here.
That they still wanted to help us, help me, and were still willing to trust only solidified my determination. They had not wanted to agree, but it really was better this way. I told them that it would be peaceful, like sleep. Rodney had insisted that it would be on the same level as death. But in the end, they had no real choice.
There in the cold darkness, I sensed when the others stepped through the event horizon. Lia’s feeling of betrayal, cut the deepest, but already she was fading. They all were, leaving me to linger alone.
I’ve heard it said that your life flashes before your eyes before you die. I shouldn’t have been surprised that this bastardized version would contain a play back of its own. That warm strong center that I identified with the once human part of myself pulsed, cascading over me in a flood of memories, reminding me of who I had once been.
The pure exhilaration of stepping through the Atlantis gate for the very first time was a gift of computerized recall. The palpable excitement in the air, even the weight and coolness of the Champagne that had rolled through the gate compliments of General Jack O’Neill, were as if I was experiencing them again with stunning vividness.
So many emotions, so many friends.
The heart break of learning of the city’s lowered power levels of having to abandon what we had just discovered so beautifully intact. The rising. The astonishment and pride the day that I walked into the jumper bay with Rodney to find John at the helm of a decloaking jumper. The feeling that this just might worked that came when he’d proceeded to pull off that daring rescue mission which ended in one very fast moving space ship stopping on a dime before my eyes.
I cannot forget the pride I experienced at Rodney’s bravery in risking his life against an energy creature or the way he’d stood up to Kolya when the city had been taken during the storm. Or the countless other acts of courage that he’d displayed despite his very vocal denials of such..
And Lt. Ford. One of the many casualties during my time in the Pegasus galaxy. I remembered him laughing, and talking excitedly about explosives, and morosely agreeing with Sheppard that since the Genii were making bombs anyway they might as well exchange them for food. I lock the memory away, keep it as a part of me.
Teyla, my dear friend. She was a sounding board when I couldn’t talk to anyone else. She truly understood what it meant to be a woman and a leader. So many things had changed. But the memory of her listening ear, gentle encouragement and understanding were precious.
Ronan, fearless warrior. Always there as protector. He had come late to Atlantis, during that second year, but he was no less dear to me. We took him in and he made himself a part of us.
And Carson, his smiling blue eyes and gentle manner. His death was a pain that felt new, still. So many others . . . their memories flashed through me - Zelenka, Chuck, Markham, Stackhouse, Cadman, Katie Brown, Peter, Biro, Kate, so many, all of them special.
And John. There was so much tied up in John Sheppard. Perhaps because I think he understood most clearly why I had to do this. My mind lingered in the moment of anger and hurt when the nanites had been released in one of the flooded labs.
.
He hadn’t trusted my judgment then, only his own. It was obvious in the way he avoided my gaze when I called him on it in my office later. We never did finish that discussion, but then we didn’t have to. What was never said in words was more than made up in action, never more so than when he stood up to Colonel Everett during the Wraith siege, at considerable risk to his own military career.
Other memories flashed by; laughter, teasing, disagreements, worry, and more. One of the most overwhelming though was when Kolya was in the city. I could still feel his rough grip as he dragged me backward toward the active gate, could practically taste the terror again. But looking in John’s eyes, I saw something more terrible than the storm that raged outside. I saw just how dangerous he could be when those he deemed to be under his protection were threatened.
I had brought that protectiveness out with my actions. Yet, he’d still wanted to trust me. That, too, was a gift.
The pulsing warmth was slowing, now. I felt it drifting away. I remembered the look in John’s eyes before I’d stepped bravely through that event horizon for the last time. I knew he would hurt after this, though he would try to hide it. I tried to tell him with my gaze. ‘It’s okay, John. It’s okay.’
At it was. Finally, I felt at peace.
Author: writerjc
Words: 1,400
Genre/Rating: Gen, PG
Spoilers: Tag to Ghost in the Machine. Possible spoilers through season 4.
Disclaimers: These folks totally aren't mine. Just playing in the sand box.
Summary: A Weir point of view tag.
AN: I really debated writing and posting this anywhere. Maybe smarmy? It's been a little while since I've written anything in the SGA universe. I just happened to hear Sarah McLachlan's "Full of Grace" after watching this episode and this kinda wanted to be written. I hope it's okay to post here. Not beta-ed as I don't currently have one. Hope this works.
Grace, noun: moral strength: the grace to perform a duty.
The initial shock of space was chilling. Cold, like a million tiny fractures across smooth replicator skin, dead and dying from frostbite. I hadn’t expected that a collection of nanite parts would feel pain or sorrow or guilt, but like everything else since I’d took this form, even frozen death crept in with a brutal sort of clarity.
Deep within I found that place that was still warm and able to move despite the stiffness that slowed my internal processes. That place that was still her, still me. Still Elizabeth Weir. There is where I drew the strength to do what I needed to do. Driven by sheer human determination, I sent the ‘all clear’. My last act is one of betrayal against those most like myself in behalf of those that I have loved.
I won’t regret this, I can’t. It is the good choice, one I knew I had to make the moment I processed John's words in that darkened corridor.
The memory was there, crystal clear. Each nuance perfectly preserved and effortlessly recalled. I heard again the pounding of his heart from increased adrenaline, registered anew his disappointment at my duplicity. I had no fear of the 9 mm pointed in my direction; my worry was for doing what I did automatically - to negotiate agreeable terms between two factions. I didn’t want to lose the ground we had gained. I knew John would agree, he only needed to be made to understand that I had everyone’s best interest at heart, that this could still work. They would do this for me and on the strength of our past relationship.
"You may still think you're Elizabeth, but you're not."
Everything shifted. His words cut to the crux of the matter. Yes, John Sheppard had a way of making me see the things that I sometimes became too focused to see. Like the need to make new friends in the Pegasus galaxy, and necessity of rescuing our captive people from the Wraith.
Elizabeth Weir had not wanted to be kept alive by replicator nanites, even severely limited ones. I hadn’t wanted to be kept alive that way. Somewhere in the process of survival I had forgotten that. This was not a diplomatic mission to unite peoples. I had allowed replicator needs to become more important than the needs of my friends, than the needs of Atlantis.
This . . . situation, this stand off, was not the Elizabeth either of us knew. And I remembered her, and meant to honor their memory of her.
Koracen must have suspected my change of heart, because in the brief distraction of the city’s power returning, he attacked. With replicator speed he relieved John of both his weapons and tossed him against the wall, leaving him to collapse to the floor. But he underestimated me; didn’t realize the depth of my emotional ties to these people. He couldn’t. Koracen had never been human.
Koracen was an unstable influence in the galaxy that could not be allowed to remain. I ended him.
The look on John’s face was one that I’d never thought to see directed toward me. He hesitated for the briefest moment before taking the hand I offered to help him to his feet. That was the beginning of the end that brought me here.
That they still wanted to help us, help me, and were still willing to trust only solidified my determination. They had not wanted to agree, but it really was better this way. I told them that it would be peaceful, like sleep. Rodney had insisted that it would be on the same level as death. But in the end, they had no real choice.
There in the cold darkness, I sensed when the others stepped through the event horizon. Lia’s feeling of betrayal, cut the deepest, but already she was fading. They all were, leaving me to linger alone.
I’ve heard it said that your life flashes before your eyes before you die. I shouldn’t have been surprised that this bastardized version would contain a play back of its own. That warm strong center that I identified with the once human part of myself pulsed, cascading over me in a flood of memories, reminding me of who I had once been.
The pure exhilaration of stepping through the Atlantis gate for the very first time was a gift of computerized recall. The palpable excitement in the air, even the weight and coolness of the Champagne that had rolled through the gate compliments of General Jack O’Neill, were as if I was experiencing them again with stunning vividness.
So many emotions, so many friends.
The heart break of learning of the city’s lowered power levels of having to abandon what we had just discovered so beautifully intact. The rising. The astonishment and pride the day that I walked into the jumper bay with Rodney to find John at the helm of a decloaking jumper. The feeling that this just might worked that came when he’d proceeded to pull off that daring rescue mission which ended in one very fast moving space ship stopping on a dime before my eyes.
I cannot forget the pride I experienced at Rodney’s bravery in risking his life against an energy creature or the way he’d stood up to Kolya when the city had been taken during the storm. Or the countless other acts of courage that he’d displayed despite his very vocal denials of such..
And Lt. Ford. One of the many casualties during my time in the Pegasus galaxy. I remembered him laughing, and talking excitedly about explosives, and morosely agreeing with Sheppard that since the Genii were making bombs anyway they might as well exchange them for food. I lock the memory away, keep it as a part of me.
Teyla, my dear friend. She was a sounding board when I couldn’t talk to anyone else. She truly understood what it meant to be a woman and a leader. So many things had changed. But the memory of her listening ear, gentle encouragement and understanding were precious.
Ronan, fearless warrior. Always there as protector. He had come late to Atlantis, during that second year, but he was no less dear to me. We took him in and he made himself a part of us.
And Carson, his smiling blue eyes and gentle manner. His death was a pain that felt new, still. So many others . . . their memories flashed through me - Zelenka, Chuck, Markham, Stackhouse, Cadman, Katie Brown, Peter, Biro, Kate, so many, all of them special.
And John. There was so much tied up in John Sheppard. Perhaps because I think he understood most clearly why I had to do this. My mind lingered in the moment of anger and hurt when the nanites had been released in one of the flooded labs.
.
He hadn’t trusted my judgment then, only his own. It was obvious in the way he avoided my gaze when I called him on it in my office later. We never did finish that discussion, but then we didn’t have to. What was never said in words was more than made up in action, never more so than when he stood up to Colonel Everett during the Wraith siege, at considerable risk to his own military career.
Other memories flashed by; laughter, teasing, disagreements, worry, and more. One of the most overwhelming though was when Kolya was in the city. I could still feel his rough grip as he dragged me backward toward the active gate, could practically taste the terror again. But looking in John’s eyes, I saw something more terrible than the storm that raged outside. I saw just how dangerous he could be when those he deemed to be under his protection were threatened.
I had brought that protectiveness out with my actions. Yet, he’d still wanted to trust me. That, too, was a gift.
The pulsing warmth was slowing, now. I felt it drifting away. I remembered the look in John’s eyes before I’d stepped bravely through that event horizon for the last time. I knew he would hurt after this, though he would try to hide it. I tried to tell him with my gaze. ‘It’s okay, John. It’s okay.’
At it was. Finally, I felt at peace.