Fic: Hate
Title: Hate
Author:
angelqueen04
Summary: Was this how he had felt?
Type / Pairings: John/Elizabeth
Main characters: Elizabeth Weir, John Sheppard, other
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 453
Warnings: thoughts of violence, but nothing really beyond that.
Spoilers: for the upcoming Common Ground.
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and all associated characters do not belong to me. This is just some non-profit fun.
Feedback: Yes please!
Author's Note: This popped into my head the first time I saw the preview for Common Ground. I was on a total high from The Real World, only to be faced with Kolya, a pack of Genii assholes, my pretty Shep, and a Wraith. Then I saw that Wraith feeding on my pretty Shep. Needless to say, I was torn between screaming my head off and simply bursting into tears. My BABY! *sobs*
-0-
Was this how he had felt? When, two years ago, their home, so new and unfamiliar to both of them, had been invaded by this same man? When he had been faced with this man threatening to kill her?
She could only stare at the screen, utterly frozen in place, as several Genii in worn and frayed uniforms dragged a thin and beaten Wraith into the view of the camera.
She could hear Kolya speaking to her, hear the perverse pleasure he was taking in her pain and that of those standing behind her.
"I wanted to be certain you were there to see this."
It was all she could do to keep herself from screaming when they released the Wraith. John's own howls of agony brought up memories of another time, long ago, when he had uttered such a sound. This time, it was muffled by the gag they'd placed over his mouth, but no less wrenching or terrible.
Elizabeth felt something inside of her shatter. Tears threatened to well up. Had it only been a few days ago that he had been her pillar of strength, leading her out of a hell created within her own mind? He had not let her down then, nor had he ever in any other circumstance. But she had let him down now. He was dying. Because of her inability to act. Because of her.
Because of him.
Suddenly, she understood Ronon's intense hatred of the Wraith far more than she ever had before. She could feel something just like it, directed at the Wraith on the camera, but more importantly, at Acastus Kolya. In that moment, she had never wanted anyone dead more than him. She wanted to see him die, to see his blood flow out of his body in a river, to -
She forcibly cut her murderous thoughts off, her gaze dropping from the camera. If she continued to watch this, she didn't know what she would do.
She listened vaguely as Kolya continued to gloat before he finally cut the channel. She could feel many pairs of eyes on her back and she clenched her hands to keep them from shaking, closed her eyes to keep the guilty tears at bay. After several moments, she slowly turned to face the sea of stricken faces looking to her.
Swallowing hard, she began to speak, her voice rough and hard. She let go of her grief and focused on her anger. Much as John had done during that terrifying night when Atlantis shuddered beneath the weight of a mighty storm and an invasion. He had persevered then and remained strong. She had already failed him once, she would not do so again.