fic: Logically Irrelevant (1/2) by miera
*deep breath*
Title: Logically Irrelevant
Author: miera
Date: August 3, 2006
Rating: R
Status: Complete
Pairings: Weir/Sheppard
Main characters: Elizabeth Weir, John Sheppard
Summary: When you fell for someone, sometimes you lost yourself in the falling
Warnings: None
Beta: melyanna
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: The boys and girls of "Stargate: Atlantis" belong to a lot of people who are not me. No harm intended, just some not-for-profit fun.
Feedback: Is like peanut butter and chocolate together.
Author's Notes: This started out as short comment fic written for mylittleredgirl because we were discussing how John might react (badly) to realizing he has serious feelings for someone. It grew a bit. *g* Little Red is my absolute hero for holding my hand through this process and not letting me cheat Elizabeth or John out of being true to themselves. This is probably the closest I can come to "realistic" Weir/Sheppard fic. If there even is such a thing.
***
This was ridiculous. It was insane. It was conduct unbecoming a Colonel in the US Air Force and a man who'd survived... everything he'd survived so far. A grown man should not be panicked like this for anything short of riding herd on a nuke, or some other imminent death. Yet, here he was, his heart racing, palms sweating and breathing erratic over the smallest little thing.
He looked down at the rest of the city's population, swirling around in the gate room, mingling and smiling and dancing as the "We're Still Not Dead" party achieved "full swing." Ronon was bumping into Rodney, both of them hovering near the food. Teyla was talking to Lorne, Beckett was chatting with Radek. New faces he didn't recognize yet blended with the survivors from what everyone had started calling Year One, like Atlantis wasn't on Earth's calendars anymore.
A dark head of curly hair moved smoothly through the crowd. He could recognize her shape anywhere by now, her profile imprinted in his mind after untold hours standing side-by-side discussing, arguing, consulting, trying to keep everything around them from falling apart. He automatically sought her figure in every room in the city. She was the first thing he looked for every time he returned. He could count on one hand the number of times she hadn't been in the control room when he came back through the gate from a mission, and the fact that out of all the missions he'd been on in the past four-plus years he knew such a logically irrelevant number was part of what was making his heart pound in his chest.
Even through the noise of the crowd, he could hear her. His ears had become so finely attuned he could recognize her voice anywhere; here, in a crowded room, or over a weak, static-filled radio link spanning hundreds of light-years across a strange galaxy, calling him home.
As he watched her talk and laugh with the others, he could still feel her touch on his skin. They'd been standing outside her office, leaning against the railing, overlooking the party and talking. She'd reached over and placed her hand over his gently, speaking quiet words of praise and gratitude that made his blood heat and his face grow warm. The team owed him their lives again. She didn't know how they would have survived if he hadn't come on the expedition. She was grateful he had come back, again, from his latest and closest close call.
Then a smile, not the polite diplomatic expression he'd seen too often but a genuine grin that lifted her lips and made a dimple appear in her cheek, causing his breath to catch in his throat, and she chided him about his promise not to scare her like that anymore.
Her touch burned on his skin and his pulse was soaring and he was disoriented by the immense desire to turn his hand over, interlace their fingers and hold on to her. Not for five seconds or five minutes but to just feel their hands - feel them - fit together seamlessly and never release her. The need for her, flaring up from someplace he'd been unaware of - or hiding from? - was almost a compulsion, to just not let her go, and it shocked him into silence.
He could only try to steady his breathing and attempt to smile back, and he saw in the flash of hurt in her eyes as she withdrew from him that it had been a dismal failure. His mouth was too dry to speak and his mind racing too fast to generate the appropriate words to apologize without risking saying too much.
She squeezed his hand once and then pulled away. He made an abortive move to reach for her again but she was too far away by then, her back to him and not seeing it. She headed off into the crowd, and he just stood there and watched her retreating back.
He curled his hand into a fist on the railing and stayed where he was long after she'd left. People glanced at him curiously. Someone would eventually come up the stairs to seek him out, and he had no idea what might come out of his mouth if he had to talk right now. He slipped into the control area and then turned and headed away from the noise and the crowd to walk the city and try and figure out what the hell had just happened to him.
***
As usual, it was a small piece of information that explained everything to her.
Elizabeth was gathering herself up after the pre-mission briefing with John's team a little uneasily. It was their first off-world trip since the destruction of the Hive ships that had nearly killed John, stranding him on the far side of Pegasus with no way to get back. Meanwhile they had no way to send help because their own gate had been damaged. It had taken almost too long just to locate him, then more interminable hours before they were finally able to get a puddle jumper into the gate room to send a rescue party.
The team all seemed eager to be back in the game. John in particular had been somewhat boisterous the last couple of weeks. It set her teeth on edge a little. He was almost too talkative, too outgoing, at least when she saw him with other people. And those were really the only times she saw him, as they hadn't had much chance to talk lately.
It was ironic that she had seen so little of him recently. During the three days he lingered in the coma after his rescue, she'd hardly left the infirmary, as if keeping watch over him would somehow make up for not getting to him sooner.
Something about the briefing as a whole was bothering her. She turned the details of the mission over in her mind, but nothing struck her as out of place. They were all cleared for duty by Carson. Possibly she was just mother-henning a bit. Given what had happened last time they left the city, it was probably inevitable she would be worried about letting them go anywhere.
The rest of them were filing out of the room. John was chatting with Teyla, that strange, excessive animation in his voice. Elizabeth was behind them and she noticed that John had his hand on the small of Teyla's back.
It was an inconsequential thing, but it made her nearly stumble in shock. Thankfully, no one noticed.
She reached her office, opened her e-mail and stared at her computer screen without seeing it. Her mind was replaying the last few weeks. How many times had she spotted John eating with Teyla or spending time with her lately? It hadn't registered. John and Teyla's close friendship had been a backdrop of existence in Atlantis since they arrived. Elizabeth had stopped thinking about it a long time ago.
It appeared whatever had been holding him back had finally snapped the leash.
Elizabeth was startled to feel a sharp pain at the thought. She couldn't be jealous? Could she?
No, she answered herself, pushing the possibility away. Not jealous like that, at any rate. Envious, in a general sense, that John could move forward with his life. It wasn't in the cards for her, not while she was here. But he was hardly the first person to come back from a near-death experience a changed man.
Elizabeth frowned, looking down at the Stargate.
All of them had nearly died at one time or another. Whether from a Wraith ship circling overhead or someone holding a gun to the temple or a knife to the throat, all of them had brushed against death these last few years. John more than any of them.
But he'd never changed before. He'd flown nuclear weapons into Hive ships, disappeared into the emptiness of space, and always come back just the same as he'd been: sarcastic, occasionally goofy and deceptively laid-back.
She stood up and went to her window, watching the team assemble and wait for the Stargate to open. She observed as they departed, remembering suddenly that first time she'd sent him through the Atlantis gate, with Colonel Sumner. He'd turned back and waved to her. He didn't do it all the time, but usually there was one last backward glance before he left.
John approached the event horizon, and had she not been watching so closely, she doubted she would have noticed the slight hesitation before he stepped through. He hesitated, but he didn't turn his head. The others followed him and the wormhole disengaged, but Elizabeth remained frozen.
He'd known she was watching them go. Elizabeth couldn't have explained how she was so sure of that, but she and John had gotten so used to one another they often seemed to be able to read each other's thoughts without speaking a word.
He'd known it, and he had wanted to look up at her. But he didn't.
It dawned on her that she could remember exactly the last time John had looked her directly in the eye. It had been three weeks ago, at the celebration after his release from the infirmary. He'd been pleased, embarrassed, and something else, some emotion flashing in his eyes she couldn't identify.
Since then, nothing. They spoke only about city matters and only when necessary. No more random appearances in her office to check in, or check up on her. The rare moments when she allowed herself to relax were undisturbed, at least by him. They hadn't had so much as a cup of coffee together in three weeks. She'd been vaguely bothered by it, but there was always something needing her attention, and John had just gone through something traumatic, so she had pushed it out of her thoughts as not requiring concern.
But now she realized that sense of unspoken connection between them, the thing that made it possible for them to run the city and work together so well, was completely and utterly gone as well.
And it hurt. Dear God, it hurt.
Especially since she didn't understand why.
Elizabeth remained there, looking down on the control room, lost in her own thoughts for a long time.
***
"Elizabeth? Can I join you?"
The leader of the Atlantis expedition was, in Carson's opinion, his single worst patient. Ronon wouldn't allow anyone but Carson to work on him. Teyla had a stubborn tendency to get out of bed far sooner than she should. Rodney drove the staff crazy with small injuries, although he was more stoic when seriously injured. Colonel Sheppard tended to put the treatment of others before himself, but he would get treated.
Elizabeth, however, would deny anything was wrong until she lost consciousness.
The way she started when Carson interrupted her intense brooding over her supper was just one more bad sign.
"Of course," she said and he watched as she visibly tried to pull herself back from whatever mental place she'd been lost in.
"How's the soup this evening?" he asked, eyeing the mostly-full bowl in front of her.
Elizabeth dragged her spoon through her bowl. "It's fine."
"That why you've barely eaten any of it?"
She glared. "Are we going to have this argument again?" she asked coolly.
Carson refused to blink or look away. "Yes, and we'll keep having it until you actually start taking care of yourself properly. Which includes eating decent meals at regular intervals."
Elizabeth stopped just short of rolling her eyes and started to protest. "I've been eating-"
"If you had, you wouldn't be looking so peaky," he interrupted, but even as he spoke, a thought occurred to him. "Unless there's something else wrong."
She wouldn't meet his eyes. "I've been having headaches," she muttered.
Carson decided to change tactics. "Elizabeth," he said, almost whining. "Headaches" was Elizabeth-speak for "yes, something's wrong but I don't want to be specific." He hated it when she did this. It was one thing for her to preserve her image by telling other people that lie, but he was her doctor first and foremost.
He was a little surprised that guilt-tripping her worked. "It's nothing, Carson, really. I've just been preoccupied."
"You're worried about John's team being off-world again?" he guessed. Colonel Sheppard's team would be back the next day, hopefully. He saw the reaction on her face when he mentioned John's name.
"Yes," she said, a little too quickly, like she was seizing on the idea. "Their first time out, after what happened with the Hive ships, you know."
He dropped his voice. "He's fine, Elizabeth. I checked him over thoroughly before I released him. He's fine."
Nervous green eyes darted to his for a moment and then looked away. "I know you did."
So if it wasn't John's physical well-being she was worried about... "Elizabeth, you don't have to tell me this if you're not comfortable, but did something happen between the two of you?"
Her reaction told him pretty much everything he needed to know. "No, Carson. And I'm a little disappointed in you for subscribing to gossip," she said, a chill in her voice.
He held up his hands. "All right, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to imply anything improper. But it's obvious something is bothering you and it has to do with him."
She started playing with her soup again. Carson waited patiently in silence until she spoke, half to herself. "He's changed."
"How do you mean?" he asked gently, hoping to coax her into thinking aloud if nothing else.
She frowned and he saw a hurt look in her face. "I don't know. I didn't notice it at first, but I think what happened affected him more than we realized."
Carson thought back over the past few weeks. He hadn't noticed anything wrong with John, per se. Nothing was medically wrong with him, that was certain. The colonel had been spending a lot of time with Teyla. Carson had overheard the nurses gossiping about the two of them, and while he had discouraged the gossiping, at least on duty, he had noticed afterwards that he was seeing John with Teyla almost all the time.
And he didn't remember the last time he'd seen John speaking to Elizabeth outside of her office.
He looked at Elizabeth sharply. Could that be what was upsetting her? It seemed unlikely for Elizabeth to indulge in such adolescent foolishness, but then, who was immune to being stupid when the heart was involved?
She would die rather than admit to such a thing, though.
"Have you asked him about it?" he said neutrally.
She shook her head. "I learned the hard way that pushing John will only make him push back." Carson nodded, as that was true of their military commander, but at the same time, it also sounded like an excuse for Elizabeth to avoid the subject. He could see Elizabeth gathering herself. She used the mask of the Leader of Atlantis as much to do her job as she used it to keep people at arm's length. "I haven't seen any evidence that his work is being compromised. Once they get back from the mission, I'll have a better idea."
Knowing that she wouldn't admit that her concern was far more personal than John's duties, and that she would be genuinely offended if he said so, Carson waved his spoon at her. "I could speak to him, if you like. Just ask what's going on in that thick head of his."
That got him a ghost of a smile as she stood up to leave. "Why don't we wait and see how things go on this mission?"
Because, he thought to himself, this has nothing to do with the mission. Some sort of silent breach had occurred between Elizabeth and John. And it was killing her.
***
Sheppard stalked into the lab two nights after they got back from off-world. The stalking alone indicated his mood. The scowl on his face confirmed that he was annoyed about something.
Rodney realized this was the first time Sheppard had been openly angry in weeks. Ever since their first-hand experience with being blasted at high speed through an unstable wormhole, the colonel had been acting strange. Even for him. "You've been acting weird."
Sheppard glared. Oh yeah, he was pissed. There was a slightly feral look in his eye. "Define 'weird'."
But Rodney had been around the man too long and been through too much to worry about the threatening looks. Sheppard wouldn't raise a hand against his own people, barring alien influence. Which, while not out of the question entirely, was unlikely. "You're always talking. Positively chatty," he said, thinking back and collecting the shreds of evidence to confirm his theory. "Restless. You never get pissy with anyone-" He paused, taking in his friend's expression and then revised. "Until right now."
"Your point, McKay?" Sheppard snapped impatiently.
As usual, the words blurted out of his mouth without editing. "It's like you're trying too hard."
Okay, maybe he was wrong about violent tendencies, because the furious look being directed at Rodney was a little too convincing. He waved a hand. "It's okay to be rattled, you know. We did both nearly die." He swallowed, memories of Sheppard's condition coming all-too-readily to mind. "You're allowed to be a little freaked out without it hurting your alpha male status. You certainly don't have to prove anything to anyone here."
Sheppard deflated. He wasn't angry anymore, and it wasn't one of his trademark "indulge me" expressions either. He looked confused as hell. And that freaked Rodney out a little. "I've just had a lot on my mind lately. You know?"
Rodney nodded. The explosion that had destabilized the wormhole had left him with three cracked ribs that still ached, plus his latest severe concussion. Carson said it was a miracle the tendons in his knee had only been strained and not irreparably torn by the rough landing. And he'd been the lucky one. The planet where he'd ended up had nice natives who'd taken him into a house and kept an eye on him until he regained consciousness and could dial home.
Sheppard had been just as roughed up but stranded on some frozen backwater with a broken DHD. He'd been completely alone, his life strung out between his injuries and hypothermia. The Atlantis gate room had been seriously damaged by the explosion. It had taken too many hours to get the gate running again, let alone find Sheppard. By the time they were able to send a puddle jumper through, he'd gone into a coma. Rodney, Teyla and Ronon had spent a few long days with Elizabeth, hovering in the infirmary until Sheppard woke up. It had been way beyond a close call.
"Have you... talked to anyone?" Rodney asked awkwardly.
Sheppard shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I'm not real into shrinks, Rodney."
He nodded, because he knew that. "Okay, but it doesn't have to be Kate." Something nagged at him. "What about Elizabeth?"
Sheppard flinched. Openly flinched.
Rodney frowned. Elizabeth had been remote lately, he remembered suddenly. Said she was having headaches, avoided looking straight at anyone when they asked how she was. Carson was worried, said something was bothering her but she wouldn't talk about it.
"You did talk to her, didn't you? Something happened between you?" Rodney was on his feet, surprising himself with his own protectiveness. "What did you do?" he demanded, upset.
The other man glared again. "Why would you assume I did something to Elizabeth?"
"Because she's been miserable for days, hiding out from everyone behind work. And now you're stalking around my lab like a wounded bear."
Sheppard fixed him with another look, but this one wasn't angry. It was worried, and dangerous. "What's wrong with her?" he asked.
Another man might have been intimidated by that look. "You tell me," Rodney said, belligerently.
Sheppard shook his head tiredly. "I haven't spoken with Elizabeth about any of this, Rodney."
Bewildered by the second sudden mood shift, Rodney swallowed. "Then maybe you should," Rodney told him.
He hadn't meant it as a dismissal, but Sheppard apparently took it that way. Rodney sat back down and made a mental note to check on Elizabeth in the morning.
***
He had to move. He had to get up and go find the supplies.
His body was too far gone.
Nothing hurt anymore. Everything was far away, his legs, his hands, the voice in his ear. He could just stay here and float.
Except the voice in his ear was getting louder, and more profane.
"God damn it, Colonel, you get up and move your ass! That's a direct order!"
There was something familiar about that voice.
Elizabeth.
Elizabeth was telling him to move. He had to move.
He couldn't.
He couldn't move.
Panic began to well up. He had to move. Elizabeth was telling him he had to, but he couldn't make his body respond. He fought but now it felt like he was being held in place. He lashed out-
John gasped for air, staring around him in confusion. He was standing in his quarters, next to his bed, heart racing like he'd just run from the other side of the city.
He slapped on the light. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat, and the sheets on his bed were tangled and dragging on the floor around his bare feet.
Nightmare, he realized. He'd been dreaming he was back on the planet, freezing to death, trying so hard to move he'd leapt right out of bed when he woke up.
He closed his eyes. He remembered lying in the little burrow he'd dug himself in the snow, drifting in and out of consciousness. After what had felt like years, he heard the wormhole opening, heard the radio signal coming through weakly. He wasn't entirely sure he wasn't dreaming. Then Rodney explained that they couldn't come get him yet. He told them not to send anyone else through and risk stranding more people in that frozen hell hole. Then Elizabeth's voice had come over his radio, telling him they'd sent supplies through. Her voice grew sharper until he answered, and then she kept yelling at him. She begged, ordered and finally started screaming obscenities at him and she wouldn't shut up until he dragged himself to the MALP, even though all he'd wanted was to drift into oblivion.
He stumbled into his bathroom, wincing at the bright light, and splashed water on his face.
The MALP had brought heated blankets, food and water, and sleeping bags. Without them, he would've been dead long before Atlantis was finally able to send a jumper for him. He'd barely made it with those things. Without them he would have had no chance in hell.
Elizabeth had saved his life. Her sheer force of will had gotten him moving on that planet. He doubted he would have heeded anyone else's instructions at that point.
When he'd regained consciousness in the infirmary in Atlantis, she was sitting next to his bed, holding his hand. That was how he'd known he was really awake, the warmth of her hand on his. He found out later that Elizabeth and his team had barely left his side while he was in the coma.
The night of the party, celebrating their survival, she'd taken his hand again, and something had rushed through him, an awareness of that touch that he'd never felt before. John had been trying hard not to think about that, as if ignoring it would stop it, and failing miserably.
He thought that weird moment at the party was where this all started, but he was wrong. It started when the need to stay alive and see Elizabeth again had pulled him out of the snow and to his feet one last time.
He went back to his bed and sat down, his head in his hands.
Earlier that night, he'd been eating dinner with Teyla. He'd been explaining something about politics back home and he'd reached out to touch her arm as he talked, like he'd been doing for weeks now.
Her hand had arrested the gesture before he could complete it. She gently but firmly pushed his own hand back onto the table. There was one brief look between them. After a few moments of strained silence, she excused herself and left.
Teyla's look. Rodney's accusations. His dreams.
He'd been running.
Had he even thanked Elizabeth for saving his life? No, she'd been the one thanking him, when it should've been the other way around. And then he'd run away like a five-year old.
Rodney said she was upset. Because of him, what else could it be? He'd felt her watching him as they left on the mission the other day. Not watching the team, watching him, waiting for him to wave goodbye like he usually did.
He hadn't looked back at her. And Elizabeth hadn't been in the control room when they returned. His stomach had clenched when he realized she wasn't there. It felt too much like a dismissal, but then, he'd been avoiding her for weeks, so what did he expect?
The thought that he'd been hurting her was enough to propel him towards his door before remembering it was the middle of the night.
He cursed himself out for a few minutes, then stretched out on the bed. No more, he decided. He would talk to Elizabeth tomorrow. What was he going to say? He wasn't even sure what the hell was wrong with him. But he figured "I'm sorry" would be a start.
***
John did his best to seem casual about wandering into Elizabeth's office in the morning. It was hard to pull off because he got the feeling everyone in the control room was watching them. "Hey."
Elizabeth looked up. She saw him and froze momentarily. "Good morning." She was wearing a field vest. She was going off-world today, he remembered belatedly. A simple negotiation to renew an arrangement for food supplies. Lorne's team was going with her.
"Ah, so, you're all set for the mission?" he asked, feeling pathetic.
She nodded. "It should be relatively straightforward," she said. She was watching him warily. That hurt. God, how had things gotten this out of whack between them?
He stuck his hands in his pockets. "You won't be gone overnight, right?"
"I don't expect to be."
He braced himself. "Good. I was wondering if we could have dinner." When her eyes widened in surprise, he added hesitantly, "And maybe talk."
They stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other. He felt a rush of warmth in his chest as her expression flickered through a half a dozen emotions before she smiled at him with genuine relief. "I'd like that."
They were still going to have to talk, he knew, but on some level, it felt like they already had.
Feeling significantly more relaxed, he pivoted to walk with her out of the office. "So, you're sure you have everything? Sunscreen? Breath mints?" Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Well, be careful. Look both ways before you cross the road, and all that."
The mood in the control room had improved. He tried not to notice, but it felt like everyone had just let out a deep breath at the sight of the two of them walking and talking.
He felt lighter, for that matter. Like the world was suddenly making sense again.
Elizabeth headed for the stairs to join Lorne and his guys in front of the gate. "You want me to bring you back anything?" she asked with a grin.
You, in one piece, John thought to himself. "Surprise me."
***
John checked his watch for the tenth time. Elizabeth wasn't back yet, and the sun had gone down long ago. There had been no word from Lorne's team.
Ronon looked at him. "How long?" He was prowling the control room in that way that suggested he'd be happy to hit someone just to have something to do.
"Almost twenty minutes." If they weren't coming back in time, Lorne would have sent someone to check in. They were twenty minutes overdue. There could have been a perfectly reasonable explanation for it, of course.
His gut twisted unpleasantly with the conviction that something was grievously wrong. He opened his mouth to tell the gate tech to dial anyway when the symbols lit up. "Unscheduled off-world activation!" The Marines poured into position. Ronon rushed down the stairs to join them, drawing his weapon. The sergeant looked at John. "We're receiving a radio transmission."
John nodded and his stomach fell when he heard the sound of weapons fire. "Atlantis, this is Lorne. We need back-up to secure the Stargate here ASAP!"
If they were under fire, why weren't they just coming back? "Copy that, Major, what's the situation?"
"Sir, the settlement has been attacked by some sort of raiding party. Most of them took off through the gate already. We trapped a few of them, but they have some of our weapons."
"I copy, Major. Why don't you just come through?"
He heard the fury in Lorne's voice even over the noise. "The bastards took Dr. Weir."
***
The anger was a living thing screaming in his mind. John shut it away.
He shut it away as he snapped orders for the Marines and his team to assemble. He shut it away as they opened the wormhole and barreled through, taking out the six men firing at the Stargate. He shut it away as they tried, unsuccessfully, to interrogate the two raiders who didn't die immediately from their injuries, and arranged for medical aid to help their trading partners who had tried valiantly to protect their guests when the bandits had appeared.
He shut it away as Rodney pulled the gate addresses from the DHD and they went back to Atlantis, and as Rodney and Radek cross-checked the addresses with the four symbols Lorne had been able to catch.
Three possible addresses. John mustered almost every military and combat-trained member of the expedition. If he had to, he could later justify the risk of leaving the city nearly defenseless by the fact that the faster they moved, the higher their chances were of recovering Elizabeth.
He wouldn't accept the possibility that they wouldn't recover her. He shut that thought away as well.
Three addresses, three teams, three MALPs that only revealed a breathable atmosphere and no one firing at the gate before each team moved out. It was incredibly reckless, but cautious wasn't going to help Elizabeth right now.
He went with the last team, leaving Zelenka in charge of the city. Beckett was waiting in the control room with a medical team, ready for anything.
Ronon was with the first team, Teyla and Lorne with the second, but John didn't need them to see the very fresh tracks of a group of people leading from the Stargate. Even in the dim light under cloudy skies, the tracks were clear. He, Rodney and the Marines with them followed the trail carefully.
He called a halt when they heard sounds and saw the flicker of camp fires. John waved one of the Marine SFs off with a couple hand signals and then lead the rest of them into the trees.
The camp was in disarray, people yelling and cursing, treating the wounded. Apparently they hadn't been expecting resistance during their little excursion. That explained the lack of sentries at the gate. John swore as his eyes scanned the camp, wishing that Elizabeth had worn one of those red shirts of hers today. They were easy to spot.
His eyes caught on a familiar figure, low to the ground. Her hands were tied, but she was moving. In fact, he realized with a surge of pride, she was carefully shifting herself away from the people in the camp, and towards the Stargate.
The Marine rejoined them and John nodded, still silent. They needed to work fast, before they lost all their advantages. The man pulled a radio transmitter out and depressed the detonator.
The C-4 went off about 90 degrees to the right of their position. Most of the camp looked towards the noise. A couple of the more savvy criminals looked in the opposite direction of the sound, which still wasn't the right way.
Elizabeth took off towards the tree line about ten feet to the left of John and his team, taking advantage of the diversion to run for the gate. With her back to the camp, she didn't see the man aiming for her.
John jumped out of the trees and moved into range. He prayed she would obey him as instinctively as he had obeyed her. "Elizabeth, down!"
She dropped.
He fired.
The man fell and John raced forward to grab Elizabeth and haul her upright. Around him he heard automatic weapons fire spitting angrily as Rodney and the Marines covered their retreat.
***
They hit the gate room at a run. John shoved Elizabeth to the floor and covered her with his body as shots were fired through the gate at them. Then the shield snapped up and the gate closed down and there was a sudden, surreal moment of silence.
One of the Marines was bleeding, and Rodney yelled for Beckett. John pushed himself onto his knees above Elizabeth, his P-90 still clutched in one hand. He grabbed her face with his other hand, tilting it up to look in her eyes. "Are you okay?"
Elizabeth had to look down at herself before she could answer. "I think so." She called up a weak smile. "Thanks."
He couldn't say anything. Sheer terror and utter relief mixed with the adrenaline still pumping through him. His hand slid back, fingers threading through her hair. He crushed Elizabeth against his chest, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth against the way he was shaking.
Elizabeth leaned into him, her bound hands gripping the top of his vest. He could feel her breath against his neck, feel her trembling as well.
He tightened his hold, resting his cheek against her hair and not caring that they were in the middle of the gate room, that a good portion of the city was watching. He just held on.
***
Part Two
Title: Logically Irrelevant
Author: miera
Date: August 3, 2006
Rating: R
Status: Complete
Pairings: Weir/Sheppard
Main characters: Elizabeth Weir, John Sheppard
Summary: When you fell for someone, sometimes you lost yourself in the falling
Warnings: None
Beta: melyanna
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: The boys and girls of "Stargate: Atlantis" belong to a lot of people who are not me. No harm intended, just some not-for-profit fun.
Feedback: Is like peanut butter and chocolate together.
Author's Notes: This started out as short comment fic written for mylittleredgirl because we were discussing how John might react (badly) to realizing he has serious feelings for someone. It grew a bit. *g* Little Red is my absolute hero for holding my hand through this process and not letting me cheat Elizabeth or John out of being true to themselves. This is probably the closest I can come to "realistic" Weir/Sheppard fic. If there even is such a thing.
***
This was ridiculous. It was insane. It was conduct unbecoming a Colonel in the US Air Force and a man who'd survived... everything he'd survived so far. A grown man should not be panicked like this for anything short of riding herd on a nuke, or some other imminent death. Yet, here he was, his heart racing, palms sweating and breathing erratic over the smallest little thing.
He looked down at the rest of the city's population, swirling around in the gate room, mingling and smiling and dancing as the "We're Still Not Dead" party achieved "full swing." Ronon was bumping into Rodney, both of them hovering near the food. Teyla was talking to Lorne, Beckett was chatting with Radek. New faces he didn't recognize yet blended with the survivors from what everyone had started calling Year One, like Atlantis wasn't on Earth's calendars anymore.
A dark head of curly hair moved smoothly through the crowd. He could recognize her shape anywhere by now, her profile imprinted in his mind after untold hours standing side-by-side discussing, arguing, consulting, trying to keep everything around them from falling apart. He automatically sought her figure in every room in the city. She was the first thing he looked for every time he returned. He could count on one hand the number of times she hadn't been in the control room when he came back through the gate from a mission, and the fact that out of all the missions he'd been on in the past four-plus years he knew such a logically irrelevant number was part of what was making his heart pound in his chest.
Even through the noise of the crowd, he could hear her. His ears had become so finely attuned he could recognize her voice anywhere; here, in a crowded room, or over a weak, static-filled radio link spanning hundreds of light-years across a strange galaxy, calling him home.
As he watched her talk and laugh with the others, he could still feel her touch on his skin. They'd been standing outside her office, leaning against the railing, overlooking the party and talking. She'd reached over and placed her hand over his gently, speaking quiet words of praise and gratitude that made his blood heat and his face grow warm. The team owed him their lives again. She didn't know how they would have survived if he hadn't come on the expedition. She was grateful he had come back, again, from his latest and closest close call.
Then a smile, not the polite diplomatic expression he'd seen too often but a genuine grin that lifted her lips and made a dimple appear in her cheek, causing his breath to catch in his throat, and she chided him about his promise not to scare her like that anymore.
Her touch burned on his skin and his pulse was soaring and he was disoriented by the immense desire to turn his hand over, interlace their fingers and hold on to her. Not for five seconds or five minutes but to just feel their hands - feel them - fit together seamlessly and never release her. The need for her, flaring up from someplace he'd been unaware of - or hiding from? - was almost a compulsion, to just not let her go, and it shocked him into silence.
He could only try to steady his breathing and attempt to smile back, and he saw in the flash of hurt in her eyes as she withdrew from him that it had been a dismal failure. His mouth was too dry to speak and his mind racing too fast to generate the appropriate words to apologize without risking saying too much.
She squeezed his hand once and then pulled away. He made an abortive move to reach for her again but she was too far away by then, her back to him and not seeing it. She headed off into the crowd, and he just stood there and watched her retreating back.
He curled his hand into a fist on the railing and stayed where he was long after she'd left. People glanced at him curiously. Someone would eventually come up the stairs to seek him out, and he had no idea what might come out of his mouth if he had to talk right now. He slipped into the control area and then turned and headed away from the noise and the crowd to walk the city and try and figure out what the hell had just happened to him.
***
As usual, it was a small piece of information that explained everything to her.
Elizabeth was gathering herself up after the pre-mission briefing with John's team a little uneasily. It was their first off-world trip since the destruction of the Hive ships that had nearly killed John, stranding him on the far side of Pegasus with no way to get back. Meanwhile they had no way to send help because their own gate had been damaged. It had taken almost too long just to locate him, then more interminable hours before they were finally able to get a puddle jumper into the gate room to send a rescue party.
The team all seemed eager to be back in the game. John in particular had been somewhat boisterous the last couple of weeks. It set her teeth on edge a little. He was almost too talkative, too outgoing, at least when she saw him with other people. And those were really the only times she saw him, as they hadn't had much chance to talk lately.
It was ironic that she had seen so little of him recently. During the three days he lingered in the coma after his rescue, she'd hardly left the infirmary, as if keeping watch over him would somehow make up for not getting to him sooner.
Something about the briefing as a whole was bothering her. She turned the details of the mission over in her mind, but nothing struck her as out of place. They were all cleared for duty by Carson. Possibly she was just mother-henning a bit. Given what had happened last time they left the city, it was probably inevitable she would be worried about letting them go anywhere.
The rest of them were filing out of the room. John was chatting with Teyla, that strange, excessive animation in his voice. Elizabeth was behind them and she noticed that John had his hand on the small of Teyla's back.
It was an inconsequential thing, but it made her nearly stumble in shock. Thankfully, no one noticed.
She reached her office, opened her e-mail and stared at her computer screen without seeing it. Her mind was replaying the last few weeks. How many times had she spotted John eating with Teyla or spending time with her lately? It hadn't registered. John and Teyla's close friendship had been a backdrop of existence in Atlantis since they arrived. Elizabeth had stopped thinking about it a long time ago.
It appeared whatever had been holding him back had finally snapped the leash.
Elizabeth was startled to feel a sharp pain at the thought. She couldn't be jealous? Could she?
No, she answered herself, pushing the possibility away. Not jealous like that, at any rate. Envious, in a general sense, that John could move forward with his life. It wasn't in the cards for her, not while she was here. But he was hardly the first person to come back from a near-death experience a changed man.
Elizabeth frowned, looking down at the Stargate.
All of them had nearly died at one time or another. Whether from a Wraith ship circling overhead or someone holding a gun to the temple or a knife to the throat, all of them had brushed against death these last few years. John more than any of them.
But he'd never changed before. He'd flown nuclear weapons into Hive ships, disappeared into the emptiness of space, and always come back just the same as he'd been: sarcastic, occasionally goofy and deceptively laid-back.
She stood up and went to her window, watching the team assemble and wait for the Stargate to open. She observed as they departed, remembering suddenly that first time she'd sent him through the Atlantis gate, with Colonel Sumner. He'd turned back and waved to her. He didn't do it all the time, but usually there was one last backward glance before he left.
John approached the event horizon, and had she not been watching so closely, she doubted she would have noticed the slight hesitation before he stepped through. He hesitated, but he didn't turn his head. The others followed him and the wormhole disengaged, but Elizabeth remained frozen.
He'd known she was watching them go. Elizabeth couldn't have explained how she was so sure of that, but she and John had gotten so used to one another they often seemed to be able to read each other's thoughts without speaking a word.
He'd known it, and he had wanted to look up at her. But he didn't.
It dawned on her that she could remember exactly the last time John had looked her directly in the eye. It had been three weeks ago, at the celebration after his release from the infirmary. He'd been pleased, embarrassed, and something else, some emotion flashing in his eyes she couldn't identify.
Since then, nothing. They spoke only about city matters and only when necessary. No more random appearances in her office to check in, or check up on her. The rare moments when she allowed herself to relax were undisturbed, at least by him. They hadn't had so much as a cup of coffee together in three weeks. She'd been vaguely bothered by it, but there was always something needing her attention, and John had just gone through something traumatic, so she had pushed it out of her thoughts as not requiring concern.
But now she realized that sense of unspoken connection between them, the thing that made it possible for them to run the city and work together so well, was completely and utterly gone as well.
And it hurt. Dear God, it hurt.
Especially since she didn't understand why.
Elizabeth remained there, looking down on the control room, lost in her own thoughts for a long time.
***
"Elizabeth? Can I join you?"
The leader of the Atlantis expedition was, in Carson's opinion, his single worst patient. Ronon wouldn't allow anyone but Carson to work on him. Teyla had a stubborn tendency to get out of bed far sooner than she should. Rodney drove the staff crazy with small injuries, although he was more stoic when seriously injured. Colonel Sheppard tended to put the treatment of others before himself, but he would get treated.
Elizabeth, however, would deny anything was wrong until she lost consciousness.
The way she started when Carson interrupted her intense brooding over her supper was just one more bad sign.
"Of course," she said and he watched as she visibly tried to pull herself back from whatever mental place she'd been lost in.
"How's the soup this evening?" he asked, eyeing the mostly-full bowl in front of her.
Elizabeth dragged her spoon through her bowl. "It's fine."
"That why you've barely eaten any of it?"
She glared. "Are we going to have this argument again?" she asked coolly.
Carson refused to blink or look away. "Yes, and we'll keep having it until you actually start taking care of yourself properly. Which includes eating decent meals at regular intervals."
Elizabeth stopped just short of rolling her eyes and started to protest. "I've been eating-"
"If you had, you wouldn't be looking so peaky," he interrupted, but even as he spoke, a thought occurred to him. "Unless there's something else wrong."
She wouldn't meet his eyes. "I've been having headaches," she muttered.
Carson decided to change tactics. "Elizabeth," he said, almost whining. "Headaches" was Elizabeth-speak for "yes, something's wrong but I don't want to be specific." He hated it when she did this. It was one thing for her to preserve her image by telling other people that lie, but he was her doctor first and foremost.
He was a little surprised that guilt-tripping her worked. "It's nothing, Carson, really. I've just been preoccupied."
"You're worried about John's team being off-world again?" he guessed. Colonel Sheppard's team would be back the next day, hopefully. He saw the reaction on her face when he mentioned John's name.
"Yes," she said, a little too quickly, like she was seizing on the idea. "Their first time out, after what happened with the Hive ships, you know."
He dropped his voice. "He's fine, Elizabeth. I checked him over thoroughly before I released him. He's fine."
Nervous green eyes darted to his for a moment and then looked away. "I know you did."
So if it wasn't John's physical well-being she was worried about... "Elizabeth, you don't have to tell me this if you're not comfortable, but did something happen between the two of you?"
Her reaction told him pretty much everything he needed to know. "No, Carson. And I'm a little disappointed in you for subscribing to gossip," she said, a chill in her voice.
He held up his hands. "All right, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to imply anything improper. But it's obvious something is bothering you and it has to do with him."
She started playing with her soup again. Carson waited patiently in silence until she spoke, half to herself. "He's changed."
"How do you mean?" he asked gently, hoping to coax her into thinking aloud if nothing else.
She frowned and he saw a hurt look in her face. "I don't know. I didn't notice it at first, but I think what happened affected him more than we realized."
Carson thought back over the past few weeks. He hadn't noticed anything wrong with John, per se. Nothing was medically wrong with him, that was certain. The colonel had been spending a lot of time with Teyla. Carson had overheard the nurses gossiping about the two of them, and while he had discouraged the gossiping, at least on duty, he had noticed afterwards that he was seeing John with Teyla almost all the time.
And he didn't remember the last time he'd seen John speaking to Elizabeth outside of her office.
He looked at Elizabeth sharply. Could that be what was upsetting her? It seemed unlikely for Elizabeth to indulge in such adolescent foolishness, but then, who was immune to being stupid when the heart was involved?
She would die rather than admit to such a thing, though.
"Have you asked him about it?" he said neutrally.
She shook her head. "I learned the hard way that pushing John will only make him push back." Carson nodded, as that was true of their military commander, but at the same time, it also sounded like an excuse for Elizabeth to avoid the subject. He could see Elizabeth gathering herself. She used the mask of the Leader of Atlantis as much to do her job as she used it to keep people at arm's length. "I haven't seen any evidence that his work is being compromised. Once they get back from the mission, I'll have a better idea."
Knowing that she wouldn't admit that her concern was far more personal than John's duties, and that she would be genuinely offended if he said so, Carson waved his spoon at her. "I could speak to him, if you like. Just ask what's going on in that thick head of his."
That got him a ghost of a smile as she stood up to leave. "Why don't we wait and see how things go on this mission?"
Because, he thought to himself, this has nothing to do with the mission. Some sort of silent breach had occurred between Elizabeth and John. And it was killing her.
***
Sheppard stalked into the lab two nights after they got back from off-world. The stalking alone indicated his mood. The scowl on his face confirmed that he was annoyed about something.
Rodney realized this was the first time Sheppard had been openly angry in weeks. Ever since their first-hand experience with being blasted at high speed through an unstable wormhole, the colonel had been acting strange. Even for him. "You've been acting weird."
Sheppard glared. Oh yeah, he was pissed. There was a slightly feral look in his eye. "Define 'weird'."
But Rodney had been around the man too long and been through too much to worry about the threatening looks. Sheppard wouldn't raise a hand against his own people, barring alien influence. Which, while not out of the question entirely, was unlikely. "You're always talking. Positively chatty," he said, thinking back and collecting the shreds of evidence to confirm his theory. "Restless. You never get pissy with anyone-" He paused, taking in his friend's expression and then revised. "Until right now."
"Your point, McKay?" Sheppard snapped impatiently.
As usual, the words blurted out of his mouth without editing. "It's like you're trying too hard."
Okay, maybe he was wrong about violent tendencies, because the furious look being directed at Rodney was a little too convincing. He waved a hand. "It's okay to be rattled, you know. We did both nearly die." He swallowed, memories of Sheppard's condition coming all-too-readily to mind. "You're allowed to be a little freaked out without it hurting your alpha male status. You certainly don't have to prove anything to anyone here."
Sheppard deflated. He wasn't angry anymore, and it wasn't one of his trademark "indulge me" expressions either. He looked confused as hell. And that freaked Rodney out a little. "I've just had a lot on my mind lately. You know?"
Rodney nodded. The explosion that had destabilized the wormhole had left him with three cracked ribs that still ached, plus his latest severe concussion. Carson said it was a miracle the tendons in his knee had only been strained and not irreparably torn by the rough landing. And he'd been the lucky one. The planet where he'd ended up had nice natives who'd taken him into a house and kept an eye on him until he regained consciousness and could dial home.
Sheppard had been just as roughed up but stranded on some frozen backwater with a broken DHD. He'd been completely alone, his life strung out between his injuries and hypothermia. The Atlantis gate room had been seriously damaged by the explosion. It had taken too many hours to get the gate running again, let alone find Sheppard. By the time they were able to send a puddle jumper through, he'd gone into a coma. Rodney, Teyla and Ronon had spent a few long days with Elizabeth, hovering in the infirmary until Sheppard woke up. It had been way beyond a close call.
"Have you... talked to anyone?" Rodney asked awkwardly.
Sheppard shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I'm not real into shrinks, Rodney."
He nodded, because he knew that. "Okay, but it doesn't have to be Kate." Something nagged at him. "What about Elizabeth?"
Sheppard flinched. Openly flinched.
Rodney frowned. Elizabeth had been remote lately, he remembered suddenly. Said she was having headaches, avoided looking straight at anyone when they asked how she was. Carson was worried, said something was bothering her but she wouldn't talk about it.
"You did talk to her, didn't you? Something happened between you?" Rodney was on his feet, surprising himself with his own protectiveness. "What did you do?" he demanded, upset.
The other man glared again. "Why would you assume I did something to Elizabeth?"
"Because she's been miserable for days, hiding out from everyone behind work. And now you're stalking around my lab like a wounded bear."
Sheppard fixed him with another look, but this one wasn't angry. It was worried, and dangerous. "What's wrong with her?" he asked.
Another man might have been intimidated by that look. "You tell me," Rodney said, belligerently.
Sheppard shook his head tiredly. "I haven't spoken with Elizabeth about any of this, Rodney."
Bewildered by the second sudden mood shift, Rodney swallowed. "Then maybe you should," Rodney told him.
He hadn't meant it as a dismissal, but Sheppard apparently took it that way. Rodney sat back down and made a mental note to check on Elizabeth in the morning.
***
He had to move. He had to get up and go find the supplies.
His body was too far gone.
Nothing hurt anymore. Everything was far away, his legs, his hands, the voice in his ear. He could just stay here and float.
Except the voice in his ear was getting louder, and more profane.
"God damn it, Colonel, you get up and move your ass! That's a direct order!"
There was something familiar about that voice.
Elizabeth.
Elizabeth was telling him to move. He had to move.
He couldn't.
He couldn't move.
Panic began to well up. He had to move. Elizabeth was telling him he had to, but he couldn't make his body respond. He fought but now it felt like he was being held in place. He lashed out-
John gasped for air, staring around him in confusion. He was standing in his quarters, next to his bed, heart racing like he'd just run from the other side of the city.
He slapped on the light. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat, and the sheets on his bed were tangled and dragging on the floor around his bare feet.
Nightmare, he realized. He'd been dreaming he was back on the planet, freezing to death, trying so hard to move he'd leapt right out of bed when he woke up.
He closed his eyes. He remembered lying in the little burrow he'd dug himself in the snow, drifting in and out of consciousness. After what had felt like years, he heard the wormhole opening, heard the radio signal coming through weakly. He wasn't entirely sure he wasn't dreaming. Then Rodney explained that they couldn't come get him yet. He told them not to send anyone else through and risk stranding more people in that frozen hell hole. Then Elizabeth's voice had come over his radio, telling him they'd sent supplies through. Her voice grew sharper until he answered, and then she kept yelling at him. She begged, ordered and finally started screaming obscenities at him and she wouldn't shut up until he dragged himself to the MALP, even though all he'd wanted was to drift into oblivion.
He stumbled into his bathroom, wincing at the bright light, and splashed water on his face.
The MALP had brought heated blankets, food and water, and sleeping bags. Without them, he would've been dead long before Atlantis was finally able to send a jumper for him. He'd barely made it with those things. Without them he would have had no chance in hell.
Elizabeth had saved his life. Her sheer force of will had gotten him moving on that planet. He doubted he would have heeded anyone else's instructions at that point.
When he'd regained consciousness in the infirmary in Atlantis, she was sitting next to his bed, holding his hand. That was how he'd known he was really awake, the warmth of her hand on his. He found out later that Elizabeth and his team had barely left his side while he was in the coma.
The night of the party, celebrating their survival, she'd taken his hand again, and something had rushed through him, an awareness of that touch that he'd never felt before. John had been trying hard not to think about that, as if ignoring it would stop it, and failing miserably.
He thought that weird moment at the party was where this all started, but he was wrong. It started when the need to stay alive and see Elizabeth again had pulled him out of the snow and to his feet one last time.
He went back to his bed and sat down, his head in his hands.
Earlier that night, he'd been eating dinner with Teyla. He'd been explaining something about politics back home and he'd reached out to touch her arm as he talked, like he'd been doing for weeks now.
Her hand had arrested the gesture before he could complete it. She gently but firmly pushed his own hand back onto the table. There was one brief look between them. After a few moments of strained silence, she excused herself and left.
Teyla's look. Rodney's accusations. His dreams.
He'd been running.
Had he even thanked Elizabeth for saving his life? No, she'd been the one thanking him, when it should've been the other way around. And then he'd run away like a five-year old.
Rodney said she was upset. Because of him, what else could it be? He'd felt her watching him as they left on the mission the other day. Not watching the team, watching him, waiting for him to wave goodbye like he usually did.
He hadn't looked back at her. And Elizabeth hadn't been in the control room when they returned. His stomach had clenched when he realized she wasn't there. It felt too much like a dismissal, but then, he'd been avoiding her for weeks, so what did he expect?
The thought that he'd been hurting her was enough to propel him towards his door before remembering it was the middle of the night.
He cursed himself out for a few minutes, then stretched out on the bed. No more, he decided. He would talk to Elizabeth tomorrow. What was he going to say? He wasn't even sure what the hell was wrong with him. But he figured "I'm sorry" would be a start.
***
John did his best to seem casual about wandering into Elizabeth's office in the morning. It was hard to pull off because he got the feeling everyone in the control room was watching them. "Hey."
Elizabeth looked up. She saw him and froze momentarily. "Good morning." She was wearing a field vest. She was going off-world today, he remembered belatedly. A simple negotiation to renew an arrangement for food supplies. Lorne's team was going with her.
"Ah, so, you're all set for the mission?" he asked, feeling pathetic.
She nodded. "It should be relatively straightforward," she said. She was watching him warily. That hurt. God, how had things gotten this out of whack between them?
He stuck his hands in his pockets. "You won't be gone overnight, right?"
"I don't expect to be."
He braced himself. "Good. I was wondering if we could have dinner." When her eyes widened in surprise, he added hesitantly, "And maybe talk."
They stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other. He felt a rush of warmth in his chest as her expression flickered through a half a dozen emotions before she smiled at him with genuine relief. "I'd like that."
They were still going to have to talk, he knew, but on some level, it felt like they already had.
Feeling significantly more relaxed, he pivoted to walk with her out of the office. "So, you're sure you have everything? Sunscreen? Breath mints?" Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Well, be careful. Look both ways before you cross the road, and all that."
The mood in the control room had improved. He tried not to notice, but it felt like everyone had just let out a deep breath at the sight of the two of them walking and talking.
He felt lighter, for that matter. Like the world was suddenly making sense again.
Elizabeth headed for the stairs to join Lorne and his guys in front of the gate. "You want me to bring you back anything?" she asked with a grin.
You, in one piece, John thought to himself. "Surprise me."
***
John checked his watch for the tenth time. Elizabeth wasn't back yet, and the sun had gone down long ago. There had been no word from Lorne's team.
Ronon looked at him. "How long?" He was prowling the control room in that way that suggested he'd be happy to hit someone just to have something to do.
"Almost twenty minutes." If they weren't coming back in time, Lorne would have sent someone to check in. They were twenty minutes overdue. There could have been a perfectly reasonable explanation for it, of course.
His gut twisted unpleasantly with the conviction that something was grievously wrong. He opened his mouth to tell the gate tech to dial anyway when the symbols lit up. "Unscheduled off-world activation!" The Marines poured into position. Ronon rushed down the stairs to join them, drawing his weapon. The sergeant looked at John. "We're receiving a radio transmission."
John nodded and his stomach fell when he heard the sound of weapons fire. "Atlantis, this is Lorne. We need back-up to secure the Stargate here ASAP!"
If they were under fire, why weren't they just coming back? "Copy that, Major, what's the situation?"
"Sir, the settlement has been attacked by some sort of raiding party. Most of them took off through the gate already. We trapped a few of them, but they have some of our weapons."
"I copy, Major. Why don't you just come through?"
He heard the fury in Lorne's voice even over the noise. "The bastards took Dr. Weir."
***
The anger was a living thing screaming in his mind. John shut it away.
He shut it away as he snapped orders for the Marines and his team to assemble. He shut it away as they opened the wormhole and barreled through, taking out the six men firing at the Stargate. He shut it away as they tried, unsuccessfully, to interrogate the two raiders who didn't die immediately from their injuries, and arranged for medical aid to help their trading partners who had tried valiantly to protect their guests when the bandits had appeared.
He shut it away as Rodney pulled the gate addresses from the DHD and they went back to Atlantis, and as Rodney and Radek cross-checked the addresses with the four symbols Lorne had been able to catch.
Three possible addresses. John mustered almost every military and combat-trained member of the expedition. If he had to, he could later justify the risk of leaving the city nearly defenseless by the fact that the faster they moved, the higher their chances were of recovering Elizabeth.
He wouldn't accept the possibility that they wouldn't recover her. He shut that thought away as well.
Three addresses, three teams, three MALPs that only revealed a breathable atmosphere and no one firing at the gate before each team moved out. It was incredibly reckless, but cautious wasn't going to help Elizabeth right now.
He went with the last team, leaving Zelenka in charge of the city. Beckett was waiting in the control room with a medical team, ready for anything.
Ronon was with the first team, Teyla and Lorne with the second, but John didn't need them to see the very fresh tracks of a group of people leading from the Stargate. Even in the dim light under cloudy skies, the tracks were clear. He, Rodney and the Marines with them followed the trail carefully.
He called a halt when they heard sounds and saw the flicker of camp fires. John waved one of the Marine SFs off with a couple hand signals and then lead the rest of them into the trees.
The camp was in disarray, people yelling and cursing, treating the wounded. Apparently they hadn't been expecting resistance during their little excursion. That explained the lack of sentries at the gate. John swore as his eyes scanned the camp, wishing that Elizabeth had worn one of those red shirts of hers today. They were easy to spot.
His eyes caught on a familiar figure, low to the ground. Her hands were tied, but she was moving. In fact, he realized with a surge of pride, she was carefully shifting herself away from the people in the camp, and towards the Stargate.
The Marine rejoined them and John nodded, still silent. They needed to work fast, before they lost all their advantages. The man pulled a radio transmitter out and depressed the detonator.
The C-4 went off about 90 degrees to the right of their position. Most of the camp looked towards the noise. A couple of the more savvy criminals looked in the opposite direction of the sound, which still wasn't the right way.
Elizabeth took off towards the tree line about ten feet to the left of John and his team, taking advantage of the diversion to run for the gate. With her back to the camp, she didn't see the man aiming for her.
John jumped out of the trees and moved into range. He prayed she would obey him as instinctively as he had obeyed her. "Elizabeth, down!"
She dropped.
He fired.
The man fell and John raced forward to grab Elizabeth and haul her upright. Around him he heard automatic weapons fire spitting angrily as Rodney and the Marines covered their retreat.
***
They hit the gate room at a run. John shoved Elizabeth to the floor and covered her with his body as shots were fired through the gate at them. Then the shield snapped up and the gate closed down and there was a sudden, surreal moment of silence.
One of the Marines was bleeding, and Rodney yelled for Beckett. John pushed himself onto his knees above Elizabeth, his P-90 still clutched in one hand. He grabbed her face with his other hand, tilting it up to look in her eyes. "Are you okay?"
Elizabeth had to look down at herself before she could answer. "I think so." She called up a weak smile. "Thanks."
He couldn't say anything. Sheer terror and utter relief mixed with the adrenaline still pumping through him. His hand slid back, fingers threading through her hair. He crushed Elizabeth against his chest, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth against the way he was shaking.
Elizabeth leaned into him, her bound hands gripping the top of his vest. He could feel her breath against his neck, feel her trembling as well.
He tightened his hold, resting his cheek against her hair and not caring that they were in the middle of the gate room, that a good portion of the city was watching. He just held on.
***
Part Two