Survival Is The First Imperative by miera
Title: Survival Is The First Imperative
Challenge: Dark Side
Author: miera
Date: July 20, 2006
Rating: R for suggested violence and some language
Status: WIP - this is part 1
Pairings: gen with background Emmagan/Lorne, Beckett/Heightmeyer
Main characters: Weir, Sheppard, McKay, Dex, Emmagan, Lorne, Beckett and Heightmeyer
Summary: Three years after being kidnapped and sold as a slave, Elizabeth Weir returns to her people.
Warnings: character deaths, implied violence and non-consensual sex
Beta: none. All mistakes mine.
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: I began working on this idea some time ago (which is why this is almost 9K words), and having struggled with it for the past week for the challenge, I know now that to fully tell the story in my head is going to take multiple parts that will be just as long as this is. I believe this first part holds together sufficiently to be posted on its own, and hopefully posting it will spur me to work on the rest.
***
The guard tugs on the rope and Elizabeth rises to her feet reluctantly. She has not really slept in over two days and her body is sore from hunching down on the cold ground. Nita, the woman waiting next to her, brushes her hand sympathetically. Elizabeth shuffles onto the platform and stands, head tilted down slightly, her tied hands hanging loosely before her. The bent head shows off the gray streaks in her hair. She is careful to hunch, hiding both her height and her body.
An unremarkable slave, nothing more. Not worth much notice by anyone.
She repeats her mantra to herself: survival is the first imperative.
She had been hoping somehow to escape this indignity for the fourth time. Her last owner had been an older man of relatively decent sort. She had a few more scars on her back from his guard's whip, but Bremo's estate had not been a bad place, as long as she held up under the work. Two months after her arrival she had realized with some surprise that she could sleep solidly through the night without worrying about what might happen if she let her guard down. No one would drag her from her bed, or try to steal her meager possessions.
She considered trying to escape, but Bremo lived almost two full days' journey by cart from the Stargate. She would likely have died from exposure trying to walk to the village, if she wasn't captured and brought back to suffer a slow, lingering death as a warning to the others.
She'd been at Bremo's since the spring of last year, so almost two years now. The other servants liked her because she knew stories none of them had heard. The past winter she had spent hours sitting around the fires, retelling stories from Greek mythology and Shakespeare. She'd even found herself flirting a little with one of the older men who worked in the fields.
Bremo's heart attack - she was assuming that was the cause of death from what she'd been told - ended all that, and landed her back at the slave markets once again. The head guard, the man who had inherited everything, had decided to offload a good half of the estate's slaves, so they were tied in a line and brought to the planet Yevis, where the markets were being held.
It is her fourth time on the auction block. It is her third sale after the death of her previous master.
She's killed three men in the past three years. Two with her own hand and the other one died from her accusations. All three of them were foul and their deaths had spared both herself and who knew how many others their cruelty. She feels little remorse, but at the same time, she doesn't want to have to do it again. At some point, someone will decide she's more trouble than she's worth at market.
The weather has turned cold and windy and she shivers a little in her thin tunic and skirt. She never had learned the name of Bremo's planet but it was warmer than Yevis, which is a chilly, muddy pit of a world. Her legs are covered in dirt from slogging through the muck in the pens for the past two days. It had been impossible to lie down and rest, and she is trembling from exhaustion as well as the cold.
Two buyers are fighting for her, which is bad as it draws attention. An elderly woman and a man go back and forth in the local currency, twenty, then twenty-two, then twenty-five. Elizabeth roots silently for the woman, though she knows no place is truly safe.
The man appears to be winning at twenty-five and Elizabeth waits for the auctioneer to end the bidding. Before he strikes, though, a sharp voice cuts across the pause.
"Fifty."
The waiting crowd gasps and Elizabeth forgets her submissive posture and raises her head in surprise.
A man steps out of the crowd. He's tall and thin, with streaks of silver hair at both temples, a scar on his face, and wearing a battered-looking blue leather jacket.
Elizabeth nearly faints as she locks eyes with John Sheppard.
***
The auctioneer closes the contest hastily after John's bid for her, eager not to let such a price slip away. Elizabeth only has time for one mute look at him before she is lead to the tent where her sale will be processed.
Her mind is racing so fast she is dizzy.
She strained herself for three years, trying to find any news of the survivors of Atlantis, any hint of anything familiar, and came up empty. Her best hope is that some of the people from the Alpha site survived the raid that had condemned her and two others to slavery. She prayed that the team was still out there, trying to find a way home, and being thoroughly careful not to attract attention. On certain dark nights she has been morbidly sure she is the only one who still survives.
She has no time to look at the other slaves in line behind her what's happened. She can't speak to them, can't tell Nita that it is alright, explain that she is about to escape from the life that still held them in misery. She swallows hard as she waits next to the guard, thinking that maybe she was crazy, maybe it wasn't really John she saw.
The tent flaps move and John comes in, followed by Ronon. It is all she can do not to react. The younger man looks largely unchanged, though his hair is shorter. Ronon's green eyes look her over with relief and what she thinks is admiration.
John's hair is shorter than she remembers, like it's been shaved down to nothing at least once. His face is covered in beard stubble that is slashed by the scar curving over one side of his jaw.
She wouldn't have dreamed that.
John remains impassive as he pays the promised money. It is a large sum for a slave who is too old to breed and not particularly strong and the weasel-faced man running the auctions is nervous. "Do you want to look at her before you witness?" he asks, nodding in Elizabeth's direction.
The guard unties her before John can answer the question. She sees Ronon's hand twitch towards his gun as the guard unties her loose clothing then tugs carelessly at her thin undergarments. The fabric falls free and she is naked before them all, save for the thin sandals on her feet.
She has endured this before with anger, but this time, from some long-buried part of her mind she feels a lingering sense of shame.
"Turn around," the guard pokes her hip with his coiled whip and out of the corner of her eye she can see John and Ronon both tense, but she is already complying without thought.
The scar on her leg is long but fully healed over. She has no idea how bad the scarring on her back is, but when she completes the turn John's face is locked in that horrible cold anger that has always disturbed her. She's forgotten how startling it is to see something so sinister break through his usually genial personality.
Weasel-Face points to the small bag of her possessions. "Those are hers, if you want to check." He is covering all his bases thoroughly, so that John can't claim he was deceived in the bargaining.
Elizabeth struggles to put her clothes back on, not looking up, keeping up the persona of a simple slave. Partly it is out of fear. Freedom is so close she can taste it and at the same time, can hardly comprehend it. But that flicker of shame has confused her, and survival instincts from the past three years tell her to keep quiet and still, and watch.
The paperwork is completed. The guard reties her and then tosses the rope in Ronon's direction. Ronon is holding a large black bundle, she notices, but one of his hands is empty. He lets the rope fall without any attempt to catch it.
John says nothing, just turns and starts walking. Ronon waits for her to precede him, sending a final glare towards the guards and Weasel-Face.
It occurs to her that she is not the Elizabeth Weir they remember, and it is very possible that the two men who just liberated her might in some respects be total strangers.
***
The three of them make their way through the town silently, Elizabeth in between the two men.
She thinks about Nita, and Garlen, the older field hand back at the estate. They will never know what happened to her. She will never know what befell Nita and the other slaves brought to the auction. For a moment she wants to plant her feet and demand they go back and do something, anything, but the impulse yields to the lingering fear that something else might be wrong. That her unbelievable rescue isn't actually real.
She isn't convinced she's safe yet, and she must survive.
The rough tavern not far from the auctions is bustling and no one notices them go through the boisterous bar and up the stairs to one of the private rooms above. There is a long bed along one wall near the single window, a table and chairs and a lamp.
When the door to the bedroom swings shut and they are finally alone, Elizabeth feels an irrational spike of fear at being locked away with the two of them. She is ashamed of herself a moment later, though, when John grabs her and hugs her tight enough to crush her ribs.
She can't return the embrace. Her hands are still tied, and her arms trapped between them, but something in her spine unbends and she leans into John's shoulder. She breathes in and it feels like the first full breath she's taken in days, or years.
He pulls back and holds her head in both his hands. "Are you hurt?"
"No."
She sees the anger flicker in his eyes. "Those scars on your back-"
She shakes her head. "They're from a long while ago." She was last whipped during her first few weeks at Bremo's. The head guard tended to go after the new arrivals to make them learn their place. She'd gotten the routine down and he hadn't bothered her since then.
The other scars are older, but she does not want to tell him about them.
Ronon interrupts. "You might want to untie her now," he says to John dryly.
John starts and looks a little embarrassed and goes to work on the knotted rope around her wrists. Elizabeth looks up at Ronon gratefully. He smiles down at her. "It's good to see you again." He surprises her by leaning forward and kissing her temple. "I'll go for food. It doesn't look like you've eaten much lately." He steps out of the room, closing the door behind him.
John throws the rope aside with a look of disgust. Her arms come up across her breasts automatically, from the cold or something else. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, watching her closely.
Elizabeth struggles for a moment against an automatic denial, trying to find her words. It has been a very long time since she could speak freely. "I'm... not seriously hurt or sick. I wouldn't go so far as okay."
John folds his lips together and just stares at her for a moment. He reaches out and his palm slides along her cheek, warm and solid and real, and he wraps his arms around her again. This time, she hugs him back. His hands rub up and down her spine gently, and he's whispering in her ear that it's over, that she's safe now.
She doesn't cry. Her body shakes, emotions overloading her ability to control it, but she doesn't cry.
***
She is nibbling at the food when John nudges her with a foot, startling her. "Go ahead, eat, will you? You're nothing but skin and bones." He is teasing her, but she can see the worry in his face.
She's honestly not all that hungry. The food at Bremo's was good, even if there had never been quite enough of it. And her stomach is lurching, along with the rest of her, at the day's events.
Ronon speaks before she can say anything. "She shouldn't overdo it," he says calmly. "She'll make herself sick."
John's face falls a little and he nods, pushing his own food away.
Elizabeth opens her mouth but she can't figure out what question to ask first.
John seems to divine what she's thinking. "We've lost a few people since the attack on the alpha site," he begins and then rattles off the names of three scientists who died of complications from illnesses, and Sergeant Ostrowski, one of the Marines, injured defending one of his teammates from a brawl on a trading planet. Then John leans forward and folds his arms on the table.
"We also lost Zelenka," he tells her slowly. "It was during the attack where you were taken. He got in the way of the guys who were trying to snatch Miko. He probably saved her life."
Grief hits her with surprising force. Dear Radek, with his wild hair and glasses and sweet, infectious smile. She sighs heavily, the tears that hadn't come before clouding her eyes for a moment.
"Do you know what happened to Cadman?" John asks hesitantly. "You, Cadman and Katie Brown were all taken that day. We got Katie back in a couple of weeks, but we couldn't find any trace of you or Laura."
Elizabeth stares at the edge of the table, memories threatening to choke her. The food she has consumed threatens to come back up. "She's dead. She was killed by the first man who bought us."
The anger of the two men becomes almost palpable. "And what happened to him?" Ronon asks, with dangerous calm.
"He's dead," Elizabeth replies automatically. "Cadman fought him. He died from the injuries." She has told this lie so many times she half-believes it herself. Neither John or Ronon show any signs of doubting it. She forces her mind back to her questions, but it is like dragging a tank through quicksand. "And everyone else is okay?"
"They're alive." She understands the evasion.
"Teyla and her people went back to Athos," Ronon chimes in. Elizabeth notices he is looking at John expectantly.
John glares at Ronon a little. "Lorne went with her," he says flatly.
Elizabeth blinks in surprise, not just that Teyla departed, but that apparently John allowed his own second in command to abandon his post. John shrugs but it seems slightly forced. "Officially he's our resident liaison with the Athosians. I didn't want to list him as AWOL or anything."
It takes her a moment to process that. Somewhere in her mind she'd always wondered if John and Teyla would end up together. But with Elizabeth gone, John would have taken command of the survivors, and he wouldn't abandon that responsibility for any reason. She knew him well enough to know that his commitment to their people was total and absolute.
Which brought up another question. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but how did you two happen to be here?"
"Reconnaissance," Ronon says laconically but far too quickly. Another silent exchange of glances between him and John confuses her, and gives her the feeling something else is going on. "We were looking for information about recent Wraith attacks."
"We were walking past the... market and I got this weird feeling," John added. "I stopped and realized it was you."
She nods but puts the issue of her recovery aside for a moment, wanting to deal with easier things. "What about the Wraith? I haven't heard any news of any attacks locally."
"There haven't been any attacks anywhere," Ronon puts in. "Not for the past couple of months."
She looks across the table from him to John, stunned.
For the first time that evening, John's eyes light up. "We think the Wraith are dying."
***
She has gotten used to sleeping in the same room with other people, but the sounds of John's quiet breathing and Ronon's watchfulness are not what keep Elizabeth awake long into the night. She wants to sleep, her body physically demanding it, but her mind can't seem to slow down.
It was full dark when John finally finished catching her up on the things she needed to know. Ronon suggested they remain for the night and return to the Atlantis survivors' settlement in the morning. John had looked like he was going to object, and then caught Ronon's pointed look in her direction and stayed quiet. Elizabeth suspected John wanted nothing more than to get her off this godforsaken ball of mud and take her somewhere he could be sure she was safe. Part of her agreed. She was longing to see Rodney and Carson and Kate and the others. But part of her was relieved she would have a few more hours to prepare herself.
The concern and pity in the eyes of the two of them was bad enough. Multiplied by dozens it was going to be hellish.
She turned her mind back to the Wraith. Their current theory, according to John, was that the civil war already in motion had taken a significant turn for the worse with the destruction of the city. Multiple hive ships had supposedly been destroyed in the aftermath of the sinking of Atlantis. But there were still too many Wraith and too few people.
The warring and the lack of food crippled the Wraith. Elizabeth knew full well that societies devastated by war and famine fell victim to an inevitable consequence: disease.
Some illness was killing the Wraith, no doubt aggravated by the low food supply and the infighting. Hive ships had crashed onto planets, terrifying the populations and killing hundreds of people. Three weeks ago, news of such a crash had reached the Athosians, who reported it to the Atlantis survivors. John, Ronon, Rodney and Carson had gotten to the wreck even as the planet's atmosphere was filling with dust from the impact and going into a sudden ice age.
They found dead Wraith everywhere in the wreckage. Carson determined that most of them had been dead before the crash.
The disease didn't seem to affect humans, only Wraith. As a species, they appeared to be dying. Carson predicted the illness wouldn't kill them all, but the balance of power in the galaxy was changing.
It feels like some kind of sick joke. She's spent three years in slavery and servitude, fighting just to stay alive, while the Atlantis team has been hiding and scratching out a meager existence on some backwater planet, and meanwhile some nameless microbe is achieving what they hadn't been able to do.
It's no wonder that her head is spinning.
"Can't sleep?" Ronon asks, his voice low. He is sitting near the door, the tiny lamp on the table turned down as dim as it would go. Next to the lamp is the wrapped bundle he had been carrying earlier. He and John have not let it out of their sight.
She rolls onto her back and shakes her head. "It's a little much to take in," she whispers.
He steps across the room to the window, which is closed against the bitter cold of the night, and looks outside, automatically checking for dangers. "It's been hard for him," he says, glancing at John, who is asleep on the floor not far from her. "Trying to keep them all together without you."
Elizabeth realizes that John's report on the welfare of their people had excluded himself. She doesn't know where he got the scar on his cheek, or when his hair began to turn so gray. "He blamed himself," she says quietly, knowing that John would have taken her abduction and the failure to recover her personally.
Ronon is little more than an outline against the faint light from outside. "After Ford, I think the not knowing was the worst part."
She nods, more to herself than to him, then can't not say something. "I imagine Major Lorne leaving with Teyla didn't help."
Ronon's response is grim. "They fought for weeks before she left. She needed to go, but he didn't want to accept it. Everyone thought he was jealous."
She tilts her head at him, the gesture startling her a little with long-forgotten habit. "But you don't?"
"I think it was more about losing more people." Ronon stands up straight.
Elizabeth looks at the sleeping figure. "I wish-" she starts and then stops. She isn't sure what she wishes for. That she had been there to do her job, that she hadn't lost the last three years. That none of them had come to the Pegasus galaxy, maybe.
"It'll be all right now." Ronon sounds far more confident about it then she feels. "You did the important thing. You survived."
She thinks of Cadman, of Radek, of Nita and Garlen and the others. Ronon leans over her and brushes a hand across her forehead before moving back to his chair. "Sleep."
Giving in, she curls up on her side and closes her eyes.
***
Several paths, none terribly distinct, lead from the Stargate into the trees. Ronon and John start walking towards the left, and she follows behind them, huddling under John's jacket against the cool wind.
The rest of their people are living in caves that burrowed into a large chain of mountains. This was the third planet they'd moved to after the attack on the Alpha site left them nomads for nearly four months. Rodney had found metal ore deposits in the rock that rendered scans useless, making the caves an excellent hiding place in case the Wraith appeared. There were signs that there had been a village at the point where the mountains met the ocean, but it had been abandoned for some time when they arrived.
She hikes up the steep hill, following the two of them easily. Months of hard labor have made her physically stronger, although the limited food has somewhat counteracted it.
Ronon, being Ronon, is climbing with one hand. The other is still clutching the parcel he has been toting since they found her on Yevis.
They go over the rise and start making their way down the slope towards the water. The sun is ducking in and out from behind the scattered clouds. The water is a purplish blue, unlike either the green seas on Earth or the blue-gray waters of Atlantis. The land is green, though, with grass and bushes. A narrow strip of dark sand marks the beach.
She wonders for a moment if John has attempted to go surfing in the water, and the thought of such a thing seems so wildly incongruous to her life just hours ago that for a moment she wonders if she's gone crazy and this is all just a hallucination.
Then Ronon raises a hand towards a tree, and a Marine steps out from his cover and nods to them. She searches for a name and can't find it before his eyes rest on her and then widen in shock. "Holy shit," he blurts out, and then turns bright pink. "Sorry, ma'am."
There is a half a second where it doesn't register that he's addressing his apology to her. Then she manages to smile. "Don't worry about it, Lieutenant. I've been thinking the same thing myself." Lieutenant Carpazin, she finally remembers.
He smiles at her with genuine happiness. Elizabeth is relieved that Ronon keeps walking.
They draw closer to the base of the mountains and she can see signs of activity now. The climb becomes steeper and John reaches out to help her, but she ignores his hand and scrambles up on her own power, concentrating in the sharp rock digging into her palms and the stretch and pull of muscle to avoid the fact that people are starting to catch sight of them.
Whispers are beginning when John beckons one of the slack-jawed Marines and takes his radio. "Rodney? You should get down to the main entrance."
A familiar voice crackles over the radio. "Ah, you're back? How'd it go?"
John smiles at her. "Rodney? Just trust me, you're going to want to come down here."
People start to surround them, calling to her and reaching to touch her hands or hug her. Elizabeth fights off the desire to pull away from so many bodies aiming for her. She is slightly reassured by the way Ronon has planted himself behind her and won't move.
A woman is carrying a basket of clothing out of the tunnel in front of them. She looks at the growing crowd, sees Elizabeth and drops the basket in shock.
Carson looks over at Kate, and then follows Kate's gaze to the three of them, standing in the open space before the tunnel entrance. Elizabeth hears Carson's muttered, "My God" and then he is running down the path, barely glancing at John or Ronon. Kate is right at his heels.
As John did, Carson touches her face, looks into her eyes. He has a fully grown beard now, and his hair is longer, but his blue eyes remain almost as she remembered them. "Elizabeth?"
"Hello, Carson."
The whispering around them has turned into babbling and laughter. Carson hugs her and she has barely let him go when Kate grabs her fiercely. "Oh thank God, Elizabeth, you're alive!"
"Where on Earth were you? What happened?" Carson asks, glancing at John in question.
Before anyone can really answer, Rodney appears, coming from behind them. "Colonel? What-"
His question dies on his lips as the crowd parts and Rodney freezes for a moment, staring at Elizabeth. He is thinner, she instantly sees, and his hair is starting to disappear above his high forehead. His cheeks are hollowed, his face more defined. He looks at her for a long moment in silence, as if he's seeing a ghost.
Elizabeth wants to speak. She tries but nothing will come out of her mouth. Somehow the reality of everything has not sunk in until this moment, standing there looking at the first person who joined her in Antarctica all those years ago. The truth of the fact that he is alive, that they all are alive, that she is still alive, finally hits home.
"Elizabeth?" Rodney's hand flails towards her, his usually expressive gestures abortive and confused, and she reaches out and grabs his fingers. Rodney looks down at their hands, as if he has to see the fact that they are touching to really believe it. When he looks back at her, she is strangely stunned to see tears in his eyes. Then he tugs on her arm and Elizabeth buries her face in Rodney's shoulder as he envelops her in a massive hug.
Around them, the rest of the Atlantis survivors begin to cheer at the top of their lungs.
***
Carson soon pries her from the group to lead her to his makeshift infirmary, which is not far down the main tunnel closest to the base of the mountain. Kate disappears to find Elizabeth some more suitable clothing. John pulls Carson aside before they leave, and Elizabeth is in no doubt that the scarring on her back will receive close scrutiny.
She settles onto the gurney, relieved to be off her feet. She slept for barely three hours the night before and the exhaustion combined with the emotional turmoil is making it difficult to stay upright.
"I can't believe it," Carson is saying, almost to himself. "Three years as a slave, to survive that long. What you must have gone through." His face is full of sympathy, but something lurks in his eyes and he hesitates a moment.
She forestalls his question. "I'm sorry, Carson. Laura died three years ago."
Pain flashes across his face, but he nods. "Do you know how?"
Her throat tightens. "We were purchased by the same man, the first time. He beat her." She viciously pushes away the memory of Laura's broken, bleeding body, lying on the cold ground, and the rasping sound of her unfulfilled last request.
Carson's eyes go cold. "Why?"
Elizabeth thinks he already knows the answer. "He tried to rape her, and she fought back." The next words spill out, almost defensively. "If she hadn't been so hungry, and so tired..."
Carson fusses with his equipment for a moment. "What happened to him, then?"
"He's dead. He died from the injuries she inflicted." She doesn't waver.
She hears him mutter "good" low enough that it could be denied. He turns back, all business. "Well, I'm glad you've been safely returned to us." His smile is genuine, and Elizabeth offers a tiny smile in return.
He begins to question her about the injuries she's sustained over the past three years of her captivity, and Elizabeth reluctantly tells him some of the truth.
***
Less than forty people remain in the Pegasus galaxy from the planet Earth. The bulk of their expedition was sent back when it became clear that the city was in real peril. A skeleton crew of key personnel and volunteers had remained to oversee the destruction of the most valuable possession known to the galaxy.
She had insisted on being one of the last to leave after they activated the self-destruct. John had been at her side, hustling people through the gate. She'd looked around at the beautiful city that had been their home for four years, and for a moment, almost stayed. She considered just giving John a push, sending him through the event horizon, and remaining to go down with the city.
If she hadn't been so afraid John was thinking the same thing, she might have done it. Instead, she grabbed his hand and made him come through the gate with her.
Over the past three years, she has thought of that moment over and over. There are supposedly other realities out there, and she thinks in one of them, Elizabeth Weir died along with the city of Atlantis. The thought has offered her a strange comfort at times.
Most of the remaining team members gather around the open fires that night. They seem to be taking the return of Dr. Weir as a sign, coupled with the news about the Wraith. There is a strong feeling of celebration.
At the same time, she has a sense that they are collectively holding something back from her. She looks from one familiar face to another and stretches herself, trying to remember how to assess a look for more than a straightforward threat.
She sits at one of the fires, explaining the general history of the past three years, skipping over the gruesome details. It feels strangely distant at the moment, like recounting a bad dream that she can only half-remember, now that she's surrounded by familiar faces, warm and mercifully clean. Or maybe this is the dream, and she'll wake up soon. The thorough bath she'd taken in lukewarm water had felt almost too good to be real. Rodney, Carson and Kate hover around her, treating her like a recovering invalid, despite Carson declaring her in "remarkably good shape, all things considered."
Carson had examined her and questioned her closely about the abuse at the hands of her three owners. He looked profoundly relieved when she assured him she had never been raped. Technically, it was true. Not for the first time, she had wondered why it was more acceptable, even in her own mind, to be beaten than to be violated in that fashion.
Carson's general assurances seemed to mollify John, but he still watches her closely all night. She's fairly sure John sees her flinch when Rodney jumps up abruptly to get something for her. She ducks back from the movement in instinctive alarm before she can stop herself.
She avoids looking John's way for a long time after that.
There were no whole uniforms left among the group's clothes, but she is in a long-sleeved black tunic she thinks used to be John's, an extra pair of Kate's cargo pants and boots, and wearing a real bra and cotton underwear for the first time in ages. The bra feels confining and unfamiliar on her body, but the underwear is heavenly compared to what she's become used to. She's faintly embarrassed that the sensation of the soft material between her thighs is arousing.
It occurs to her that she doesn't know where she is to sleep.
With a strange intuition, or perhaps because she keeps yawning hugely, Ronon suggests that she must be tired and needing to rest.
It quickly becomes apparent that no one else has considered her sleeping arrangements yet either.
"You can stay with us tonight," Kate says, glancing at Carson for his assent.
Elizabeth nods, thinking it might be for the best, although she's a little nervous that Kate is almost anticipating getting Elizabeth to talk about her experiences.
They show her to the cavern off the main tunnel that Kate and Carson have established as their home and Ronon and Carson bring in a cot for her to sleep on. Once the bed is made up and she has everything she needs for the night, Kate and Carson leave. Ronon hangs back for a moment. "Do you want me to stay?" he asks seriously.
"I think I'm okay," she says, but is grateful for the offer. "Where do you sleep?" she asks. She's just curious about the living arrangements of the team but Ronon raises his eyebrows at her for a moment and she flushes a little. He grins.
He waves towards the central tunnel. "The first space past the entrance." It makes sense. Anything that tries to come into the living area would have to get past Ronon first.
She knows he can see that she understands the implicit message. She is safe here. "Thank you."
"Sleep well," he says and leaves.
Elizabeth takes off her boots and crawls into the cot. She half-expects another long night of staring into the dark, but she falls asleep almost as soon as she closes her eyes.
***
Elizabeth spends the next morning sleeping, and the afternoon with Kate, being shown around most of the settlement. Resilience coupled with ingenuity have transformed the cave system into a fairly comfortable habitat. She remembers how proud she always was of these people.
She notices a barely visible trail away from the main tunnel, up higher into the rock face. It was the direction Rodney had come from the day before. She says nothing to Kate, though, and is told nothing, and she wonders if perhaps they aren't quite as certain they can trust her as they seemed the night before.
She doesn't see Rodney, John or Ronon until the evening meal.
The next day some of her sense of unreality has faded, possibly because she's finally slept for two nights in a row. John turns up at mid-day and asks if she's up to go visiting. He looks so eager, with that expression that always reminded her of a puppy with a new toy, that she can't not smile back and agree.
They hike up to the Stargate again and he leads her through to a quiet, misty plain. Ruins are off in the distance on one side, and trees in the other. They start walking towards the brush. When a young man steps out from the trees and hails them, it takes Elizabeth almost a full minute to connect the tall, serious-eyed warrior with the little boy who frightened them all so badly in their first few days in Atlantis.
Jinto runs ahead of them to the camp, and it is a re-enactment of her arrival at the caves all over again. The Athosians in the camp leave their work and throng around her. Elizabeth twitches a little closer to John, unable to help the reaction. He puts a comforting hand on her lower back and she steadies herself.
Then she forgets her own nervousness when Teyla appears before her. The shorter woman is hugely pregnant, but her face and eyes are alight with joy. "Elizabeth!"
They hug carefully. Elizabeth can't resist placing a hand against Teyla's full belly. She looks up and meets Teyla's eyes and for a moment they simply stare at each other, all manner of things passing between them. She's forgotten this, this sense of silent communication. Since Laura's death she has been apart from everyone around her in a way that couldn't be bridged. It is like something within her that has been dormant is slowly waking.
Teyla has aged a bit, just as they all have, but she looks happy and there is peace in her face.
Elizabeth allows herself to be drawn to Teyla's home. John excuses himself to talk to Jinto and she is grateful when the tent closes out the chattering of the camp. Teyla bustles about, making tea, still eminently graceful despite the enormous protrusion of her belly. Once they are both seated at the table, her friend's wise eyes look into hers and Elizabeth finds herself desperately needing to talk.
In a rush, she blurts out where she has been for the past three years. The man who killed Laura, the second man who purchased her from the slave markets, another auction and another buyer and Bremo's estate. The guilt she has been too busy to concentrate on wells up and chokes her.
"There were at least twenty others, all of whom were being sold with me," she says, her voice rough with grief.
Teyla reaches out and takes her hand. "There is nothing you could have done to save them. Colonel Sheppard needed to bring you back to safety. Returning you to your people was the most important thing."
Elizabeth nods, but something in her does not quite agree. She is not irreplaceable, that has been proved beyond doubt. Before she can say so, though, a noise outside the tent catches her attention, and the entrance opens to reveal Major Lorne. Like Carson, he has a full beard now, and his hair has gotten longer. He is in Athosian clothes rather than a uniform, but his face is still comfortingly familiar. "Dr. Weir?"
She smiles and stands to hug him. She has been hugged more in the past three days than she has in the entirety of her life. "I can't believe this. It's a miracle."
Teyla glances at John, who has come into the tent as well. "It is extremely fortunate that Colonel Sheppard and Ronon happened to be on Yevis just at that time. If they had not been..." She leaves the sentence unfinished.
Elizabeth doesn't hear his reply, thinking of the others, the men and women shuffling through the mud in the holding pens where the slaves were kept. The ones without any hope that some old friend or relative would appear as if by magic to rescue them. Her heart aches and it must show on her face because both John and Lorne move towards her in alarm. She calls up a hasty smile and glances at Teyla.
"I see you two have been busy in my absence," she says lightly. Lorne blushes a little and Teyla automatically cradles her belly.
"If it's a girl, we were thinking of naming her Elizabeth," he says, going to stand behind Teyla, his hands on her shoulders.
Teyla looks up at him. "We still may. I would be much happier for our daughter to know the woman she is named for, instead of just carrying her name."
Lorne glances at her. "If that's okay with you, ma'am."
Elizabeth pushes down the urge to tell him not to call her that. "It's much better than okay," she says. "It's perfect."
***
The sun is low over the ocean when she and John return to the planet. Lorne has come with them, obeying some quiet command from Teyla she doesn't catch. She approaches the path up to the main tunnel, but John pauses and nods in another direction. "You want to take a walk?"
She regards him calmly. "You finally going to tell me what everyone's been hiding since I got back?"
John gapes at her in shock and she raises her eyebrow at him, feeling something within her snap back into place after far too long. Behind her she can hear Lorne chuckle. John shakes his head and mutters something to himself and starts climbing the steeper path up the rocks.
This time he doesn't try to help her, only glances over his shoulder to be sure she's keeping up. Lorne follows her carefully.
They hop up onto a ledge that appears as if by magic out of the jutting cliff face. A huge gap is in front of them, reminding her of the one time she stood in the entrance of an airplane hangar and got vertigo looking up at the tops of the doors. John walks forward and as her eyes adjust, Elizabeth begins to pick out strangely familiar shapes.
Puddle jumpers, she realizes with a start. Lined up in perfect order. Now she understands why she thought of the airplane hangar. John keeps going past them, though, and she follows obediently. She realizes that what she thought was the back wall of the cavern is actually only a small protrusion of rock from the ceiling, and there are lights coming from behind it.
They go around the last puddle jumper and Elizabeth stops short.
Sitting comfortably within the cavern is the Daedalus. Or what's left of her. The ship had supposedly been on the way from Earth when they'd been forced to destroy Atlantis. None of them had heard anything of the ship since then.
"Rodney's been working on her for nearly the entire time you've been gone," John says from her side.
"She'll fly?" Elizabeth asks, then feels stupid. Of course the ship could fly, otherwise they couldn't have gotten it in here to begin with.
But John gives her a wry smile. "She's space-worthy: engines, armaments and shielding. Rodney doesn't think she could take the haul back to the Milky Way, though."
That idea hadn't crossed her mind yet, though now she thinks of it, a small wave of sadness hits her. They still have the control crystal for the DHD, she assumes, but no power source to get back to Earth. This would have been probably their only other way.
"How did you find her?"
"Dumb luck," Lorne says from her other side. "We were scouting a planet for potential food supplies not long after we got here, and thought we'd walked into an ambush. It turned out it was the survivors from the crew."
Elizabeth glances at John and his face darkens. "They ran into the Wraith who were retreating after we destroyed the city. The ship was badly damaged. Caldwell had them find a place to land to work on repairs, but the water wasn't clean and almost the entire crew died." He doesn't say the words but she knows Stephen died that way as well.
"We brought back Rodney and some others and flew her here." John leads her into the ship and she spends a good fifteen minutes listening to Rodney babble happily about everything he's accomplished. John occasionally tries to hurry him up, or simply interjects just to needle Rodney, and Elizabeth has a feeling of déjà vu so strong she gets a little dizzy. Like she's fast-forwarded through the past three years and found things have not changed, though the scar on John's face and Teyla's swollen stomach belie that idea.
Her tour ends in what used to be the main meeting area, just behind the bridge. Ronon and Carson are there with Lorne and Kate, clearly waiting for them. Elizabeth finds herself feeling edgy with anticipation.
"I already filled Dr. Weir in on the status of the Wraith," John says to the entire table. Everyone looks at her and she clears her throat, realizing this is a full-scale briefing, and she has a role to play.
"We're sure they're really dying?"
Carson nods. "My tests were conclusive. The plague seems to have struck a huge percentage of the Wraith ships before they were aware of it spreading. From what we've heard and what data I was able to gather, I doubt they'll be able to come up with an effective treatment."
"Still," John says. "It's unlikely that even a monster bug is going to wipe them out entirely."
"Aye," Carson answers. "Some of them will likely survive. The hive ships that were alerted in time might avoid contact with the others and remain free of the disease."
"The ones who are still out there will be scattered across worlds," Ronon observes. "We'll have to hunt them down and destroy them."
"But there's a bigger issue here," John starts. Rodney cuts him off.
"A bigger opportunity, actually."
"I was getting to that."
"Too slowly."
John glares at Rodney, who simply glares back. John turns to her. "We could just celebrate the plague and go on our way, but I think this is the best opportunity we'll ever had to finish the Wraith off for good."
Elizabeth turns this over in her head. John has a solid point. The Ancients lost the war because they were outnumbered, not outgunned. Now nature has decimated the Wraith population. One problem remains, though. "How, exactly?"
The tension around the table goes up a notch and Rodney lifts the black bundle Ronon was carrying so carefully for two days up and onto the table. He looks at her for a second. "Um, the rest of the survivors know about the ship and this idea, but this is the part they don't know about yet."
She gives him a short nod.
He unwraps it carefully. Elizabeth gasps aloud. A ZPM is lying inside the material. "This is why we were on Yevis. We'd found out that one of the old temples on the planet was built by the Ancients. It had been pretty thoroughly ransacked, but apparently none of those people had the gene," John explains.
"Or a database filled with architectural plans and schematics of other Ancient buildings," Rodney added.
They were on Yevis to recover a ZPM. She had been on that planet four separate times and had no idea how close she was. Not that she could have done anything herself, even had she not been tied and caged the entire time. "Is it fully charged?"
"No," Rodney says, a faint note of disappointment in his voice. "Only about half."
"But a half-full ZPM is still plenty to do what we want it to do," John adds meaningfully.
She looks at him, then at Rodney, then around the table. Carson and Kate look unhappy. Ronon and Lorne are looking determined.
Her eyes are drawn back to the ZPM, the only power source they know of that has enough energy to open a wormhole back to Earth. "You want to trigger an explosion with the ZPM and wipe out the remaining Wraith ships," she guesses.
"It might not come to that," Rodney says hurriedly. "We're not sure exactly how many hives are still out there. Naquadah generators might be enough to get the job done."
"But, if they're not, an overloaded ZPM will definitely take 'em out."
"How?" she asks and then half-listens to Rodney's explanation of the power regulator he's rigged to hook up to the ZPM and cause it to overload. The plan John has come up with is simple. Use the Daedalus as bait, lure all the remaining Wraith ships to an uninhabited solar system, and then detonate the ZPM.
She could hardly fail to miss the predatory gleam in Ronon's eyes. Lorne isn't looking quite so ecstatic, but he's about to become a father any minute. His life is here now, and to protect his new family from their greatest enemy would be the only logical choice for him.
Her eyes go to Carson and Kate. "You don't agree with this idea."
The two of them look at each other silently for a moment. "It's not that we don't understand the value of eliminating the Wraith threat entirely," Carson explains slowly. "It's just that we're effectively giving up on the idea of ever returning to Earth."
"Not necessarily," Rodney interrupts. "There's no reason to assume there are no other ZPMs out there in Pegasus, or even some other power source we could use-"
"Rodney," she chides gently, the tone coming back to her with surprising ease. He subsides and Carson continues.
"I think the only fair thing to do is call for a vote from everyone."
Elizabeth stares at the ZPM for a moment and then notices that all of them are watching her expectantly. They are waiting on her, she realizes. Waiting on her decision, her approval or her disapproval or her questions. They want her to authorize them to go ahead.
It seems more than slightly crazy. Forty-eight hours ago she had been standing on a platform being sold to the highest bidder and they had long ago written her off as dead, and yet, they have smoothly returned her to her position.
It doesn't seem to have occurred to them to question whether she is still capable, or even wants to be restored.
She folds her hands to give herself a moment to think. It feels like two wholly separate people are shifting within her, Dr. Weir, the leader of the Atlantis expedition, and the slave woman she has been. From one moment to the next, she is bouncing between them uncertainly.
One side of her says they should do it. Wait for the best moment and strike, wipe the Wraith from existence for good.
What would Dr. Weir have done, if this was three years ago?
"We need more information, I think." She can't help but tack that last phrase on. "We're not sure of the status of the Wraith fleet yet. There's still a possibility that even a ZPM wouldn't be enough to take them all out." Her eyes go to Ronon at that, and he nods in confirmation. "But I do agree with Carson, that if the ZPM is an option, all the survivors from Earth should get a say in the decision."
She looks to John, trying to convey that she's giving an opinion, not an order. He doesn't appear to take it that way, however. "So our next step is to keep gathering as much intel as we can," he says to the group at large. "And no one mentions the ZPM to anyone outside this room, other than to Teyla," he adds with a glance at Lorne.
Elizabeth lets out a deep breath and looks at the zero point module, lying innocuously on the table.
An end to both her personal hell and the living nightmare of the Wraith. It seems like far too much to ask from the universe.
***
Challenge: Dark Side
Author: miera
Date: July 20, 2006
Rating: R for suggested violence and some language
Status: WIP - this is part 1
Pairings: gen with background Emmagan/Lorne, Beckett/Heightmeyer
Main characters: Weir, Sheppard, McKay, Dex, Emmagan, Lorne, Beckett and Heightmeyer
Summary: Three years after being kidnapped and sold as a slave, Elizabeth Weir returns to her people.
Warnings: character deaths, implied violence and non-consensual sex
Beta: none. All mistakes mine.
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: I began working on this idea some time ago (which is why this is almost 9K words), and having struggled with it for the past week for the challenge, I know now that to fully tell the story in my head is going to take multiple parts that will be just as long as this is. I believe this first part holds together sufficiently to be posted on its own, and hopefully posting it will spur me to work on the rest.
***
The guard tugs on the rope and Elizabeth rises to her feet reluctantly. She has not really slept in over two days and her body is sore from hunching down on the cold ground. Nita, the woman waiting next to her, brushes her hand sympathetically. Elizabeth shuffles onto the platform and stands, head tilted down slightly, her tied hands hanging loosely before her. The bent head shows off the gray streaks in her hair. She is careful to hunch, hiding both her height and her body.
An unremarkable slave, nothing more. Not worth much notice by anyone.
She repeats her mantra to herself: survival is the first imperative.
She had been hoping somehow to escape this indignity for the fourth time. Her last owner had been an older man of relatively decent sort. She had a few more scars on her back from his guard's whip, but Bremo's estate had not been a bad place, as long as she held up under the work. Two months after her arrival she had realized with some surprise that she could sleep solidly through the night without worrying about what might happen if she let her guard down. No one would drag her from her bed, or try to steal her meager possessions.
She considered trying to escape, but Bremo lived almost two full days' journey by cart from the Stargate. She would likely have died from exposure trying to walk to the village, if she wasn't captured and brought back to suffer a slow, lingering death as a warning to the others.
She'd been at Bremo's since the spring of last year, so almost two years now. The other servants liked her because she knew stories none of them had heard. The past winter she had spent hours sitting around the fires, retelling stories from Greek mythology and Shakespeare. She'd even found herself flirting a little with one of the older men who worked in the fields.
Bremo's heart attack - she was assuming that was the cause of death from what she'd been told - ended all that, and landed her back at the slave markets once again. The head guard, the man who had inherited everything, had decided to offload a good half of the estate's slaves, so they were tied in a line and brought to the planet Yevis, where the markets were being held.
It is her fourth time on the auction block. It is her third sale after the death of her previous master.
She's killed three men in the past three years. Two with her own hand and the other one died from her accusations. All three of them were foul and their deaths had spared both herself and who knew how many others their cruelty. She feels little remorse, but at the same time, she doesn't want to have to do it again. At some point, someone will decide she's more trouble than she's worth at market.
The weather has turned cold and windy and she shivers a little in her thin tunic and skirt. She never had learned the name of Bremo's planet but it was warmer than Yevis, which is a chilly, muddy pit of a world. Her legs are covered in dirt from slogging through the muck in the pens for the past two days. It had been impossible to lie down and rest, and she is trembling from exhaustion as well as the cold.
Two buyers are fighting for her, which is bad as it draws attention. An elderly woman and a man go back and forth in the local currency, twenty, then twenty-two, then twenty-five. Elizabeth roots silently for the woman, though she knows no place is truly safe.
The man appears to be winning at twenty-five and Elizabeth waits for the auctioneer to end the bidding. Before he strikes, though, a sharp voice cuts across the pause.
"Fifty."
The waiting crowd gasps and Elizabeth forgets her submissive posture and raises her head in surprise.
A man steps out of the crowd. He's tall and thin, with streaks of silver hair at both temples, a scar on his face, and wearing a battered-looking blue leather jacket.
Elizabeth nearly faints as she locks eyes with John Sheppard.
***
The auctioneer closes the contest hastily after John's bid for her, eager not to let such a price slip away. Elizabeth only has time for one mute look at him before she is lead to the tent where her sale will be processed.
Her mind is racing so fast she is dizzy.
She strained herself for three years, trying to find any news of the survivors of Atlantis, any hint of anything familiar, and came up empty. Her best hope is that some of the people from the Alpha site survived the raid that had condemned her and two others to slavery. She prayed that the team was still out there, trying to find a way home, and being thoroughly careful not to attract attention. On certain dark nights she has been morbidly sure she is the only one who still survives.
She has no time to look at the other slaves in line behind her what's happened. She can't speak to them, can't tell Nita that it is alright, explain that she is about to escape from the life that still held them in misery. She swallows hard as she waits next to the guard, thinking that maybe she was crazy, maybe it wasn't really John she saw.
The tent flaps move and John comes in, followed by Ronon. It is all she can do not to react. The younger man looks largely unchanged, though his hair is shorter. Ronon's green eyes look her over with relief and what she thinks is admiration.
John's hair is shorter than she remembers, like it's been shaved down to nothing at least once. His face is covered in beard stubble that is slashed by the scar curving over one side of his jaw.
She wouldn't have dreamed that.
John remains impassive as he pays the promised money. It is a large sum for a slave who is too old to breed and not particularly strong and the weasel-faced man running the auctions is nervous. "Do you want to look at her before you witness?" he asks, nodding in Elizabeth's direction.
The guard unties her before John can answer the question. She sees Ronon's hand twitch towards his gun as the guard unties her loose clothing then tugs carelessly at her thin undergarments. The fabric falls free and she is naked before them all, save for the thin sandals on her feet.
She has endured this before with anger, but this time, from some long-buried part of her mind she feels a lingering sense of shame.
"Turn around," the guard pokes her hip with his coiled whip and out of the corner of her eye she can see John and Ronon both tense, but she is already complying without thought.
The scar on her leg is long but fully healed over. She has no idea how bad the scarring on her back is, but when she completes the turn John's face is locked in that horrible cold anger that has always disturbed her. She's forgotten how startling it is to see something so sinister break through his usually genial personality.
Weasel-Face points to the small bag of her possessions. "Those are hers, if you want to check." He is covering all his bases thoroughly, so that John can't claim he was deceived in the bargaining.
Elizabeth struggles to put her clothes back on, not looking up, keeping up the persona of a simple slave. Partly it is out of fear. Freedom is so close she can taste it and at the same time, can hardly comprehend it. But that flicker of shame has confused her, and survival instincts from the past three years tell her to keep quiet and still, and watch.
The paperwork is completed. The guard reties her and then tosses the rope in Ronon's direction. Ronon is holding a large black bundle, she notices, but one of his hands is empty. He lets the rope fall without any attempt to catch it.
John says nothing, just turns and starts walking. Ronon waits for her to precede him, sending a final glare towards the guards and Weasel-Face.
It occurs to her that she is not the Elizabeth Weir they remember, and it is very possible that the two men who just liberated her might in some respects be total strangers.
***
The three of them make their way through the town silently, Elizabeth in between the two men.
She thinks about Nita, and Garlen, the older field hand back at the estate. They will never know what happened to her. She will never know what befell Nita and the other slaves brought to the auction. For a moment she wants to plant her feet and demand they go back and do something, anything, but the impulse yields to the lingering fear that something else might be wrong. That her unbelievable rescue isn't actually real.
She isn't convinced she's safe yet, and she must survive.
The rough tavern not far from the auctions is bustling and no one notices them go through the boisterous bar and up the stairs to one of the private rooms above. There is a long bed along one wall near the single window, a table and chairs and a lamp.
When the door to the bedroom swings shut and they are finally alone, Elizabeth feels an irrational spike of fear at being locked away with the two of them. She is ashamed of herself a moment later, though, when John grabs her and hugs her tight enough to crush her ribs.
She can't return the embrace. Her hands are still tied, and her arms trapped between them, but something in her spine unbends and she leans into John's shoulder. She breathes in and it feels like the first full breath she's taken in days, or years.
He pulls back and holds her head in both his hands. "Are you hurt?"
"No."
She sees the anger flicker in his eyes. "Those scars on your back-"
She shakes her head. "They're from a long while ago." She was last whipped during her first few weeks at Bremo's. The head guard tended to go after the new arrivals to make them learn their place. She'd gotten the routine down and he hadn't bothered her since then.
The other scars are older, but she does not want to tell him about them.
Ronon interrupts. "You might want to untie her now," he says to John dryly.
John starts and looks a little embarrassed and goes to work on the knotted rope around her wrists. Elizabeth looks up at Ronon gratefully. He smiles down at her. "It's good to see you again." He surprises her by leaning forward and kissing her temple. "I'll go for food. It doesn't look like you've eaten much lately." He steps out of the room, closing the door behind him.
John throws the rope aside with a look of disgust. Her arms come up across her breasts automatically, from the cold or something else. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, watching her closely.
Elizabeth struggles for a moment against an automatic denial, trying to find her words. It has been a very long time since she could speak freely. "I'm... not seriously hurt or sick. I wouldn't go so far as okay."
John folds his lips together and just stares at her for a moment. He reaches out and his palm slides along her cheek, warm and solid and real, and he wraps his arms around her again. This time, she hugs him back. His hands rub up and down her spine gently, and he's whispering in her ear that it's over, that she's safe now.
She doesn't cry. Her body shakes, emotions overloading her ability to control it, but she doesn't cry.
***
She is nibbling at the food when John nudges her with a foot, startling her. "Go ahead, eat, will you? You're nothing but skin and bones." He is teasing her, but she can see the worry in his face.
She's honestly not all that hungry. The food at Bremo's was good, even if there had never been quite enough of it. And her stomach is lurching, along with the rest of her, at the day's events.
Ronon speaks before she can say anything. "She shouldn't overdo it," he says calmly. "She'll make herself sick."
John's face falls a little and he nods, pushing his own food away.
Elizabeth opens her mouth but she can't figure out what question to ask first.
John seems to divine what she's thinking. "We've lost a few people since the attack on the alpha site," he begins and then rattles off the names of three scientists who died of complications from illnesses, and Sergeant Ostrowski, one of the Marines, injured defending one of his teammates from a brawl on a trading planet. Then John leans forward and folds his arms on the table.
"We also lost Zelenka," he tells her slowly. "It was during the attack where you were taken. He got in the way of the guys who were trying to snatch Miko. He probably saved her life."
Grief hits her with surprising force. Dear Radek, with his wild hair and glasses and sweet, infectious smile. She sighs heavily, the tears that hadn't come before clouding her eyes for a moment.
"Do you know what happened to Cadman?" John asks hesitantly. "You, Cadman and Katie Brown were all taken that day. We got Katie back in a couple of weeks, but we couldn't find any trace of you or Laura."
Elizabeth stares at the edge of the table, memories threatening to choke her. The food she has consumed threatens to come back up. "She's dead. She was killed by the first man who bought us."
The anger of the two men becomes almost palpable. "And what happened to him?" Ronon asks, with dangerous calm.
"He's dead," Elizabeth replies automatically. "Cadman fought him. He died from the injuries." She has told this lie so many times she half-believes it herself. Neither John or Ronon show any signs of doubting it. She forces her mind back to her questions, but it is like dragging a tank through quicksand. "And everyone else is okay?"
"They're alive." She understands the evasion.
"Teyla and her people went back to Athos," Ronon chimes in. Elizabeth notices he is looking at John expectantly.
John glares at Ronon a little. "Lorne went with her," he says flatly.
Elizabeth blinks in surprise, not just that Teyla departed, but that apparently John allowed his own second in command to abandon his post. John shrugs but it seems slightly forced. "Officially he's our resident liaison with the Athosians. I didn't want to list him as AWOL or anything."
It takes her a moment to process that. Somewhere in her mind she'd always wondered if John and Teyla would end up together. But with Elizabeth gone, John would have taken command of the survivors, and he wouldn't abandon that responsibility for any reason. She knew him well enough to know that his commitment to their people was total and absolute.
Which brought up another question. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but how did you two happen to be here?"
"Reconnaissance," Ronon says laconically but far too quickly. Another silent exchange of glances between him and John confuses her, and gives her the feeling something else is going on. "We were looking for information about recent Wraith attacks."
"We were walking past the... market and I got this weird feeling," John added. "I stopped and realized it was you."
She nods but puts the issue of her recovery aside for a moment, wanting to deal with easier things. "What about the Wraith? I haven't heard any news of any attacks locally."
"There haven't been any attacks anywhere," Ronon puts in. "Not for the past couple of months."
She looks across the table from him to John, stunned.
For the first time that evening, John's eyes light up. "We think the Wraith are dying."
***
She has gotten used to sleeping in the same room with other people, but the sounds of John's quiet breathing and Ronon's watchfulness are not what keep Elizabeth awake long into the night. She wants to sleep, her body physically demanding it, but her mind can't seem to slow down.
It was full dark when John finally finished catching her up on the things she needed to know. Ronon suggested they remain for the night and return to the Atlantis survivors' settlement in the morning. John had looked like he was going to object, and then caught Ronon's pointed look in her direction and stayed quiet. Elizabeth suspected John wanted nothing more than to get her off this godforsaken ball of mud and take her somewhere he could be sure she was safe. Part of her agreed. She was longing to see Rodney and Carson and Kate and the others. But part of her was relieved she would have a few more hours to prepare herself.
The concern and pity in the eyes of the two of them was bad enough. Multiplied by dozens it was going to be hellish.
She turned her mind back to the Wraith. Their current theory, according to John, was that the civil war already in motion had taken a significant turn for the worse with the destruction of the city. Multiple hive ships had supposedly been destroyed in the aftermath of the sinking of Atlantis. But there were still too many Wraith and too few people.
The warring and the lack of food crippled the Wraith. Elizabeth knew full well that societies devastated by war and famine fell victim to an inevitable consequence: disease.
Some illness was killing the Wraith, no doubt aggravated by the low food supply and the infighting. Hive ships had crashed onto planets, terrifying the populations and killing hundreds of people. Three weeks ago, news of such a crash had reached the Athosians, who reported it to the Atlantis survivors. John, Ronon, Rodney and Carson had gotten to the wreck even as the planet's atmosphere was filling with dust from the impact and going into a sudden ice age.
They found dead Wraith everywhere in the wreckage. Carson determined that most of them had been dead before the crash.
The disease didn't seem to affect humans, only Wraith. As a species, they appeared to be dying. Carson predicted the illness wouldn't kill them all, but the balance of power in the galaxy was changing.
It feels like some kind of sick joke. She's spent three years in slavery and servitude, fighting just to stay alive, while the Atlantis team has been hiding and scratching out a meager existence on some backwater planet, and meanwhile some nameless microbe is achieving what they hadn't been able to do.
It's no wonder that her head is spinning.
"Can't sleep?" Ronon asks, his voice low. He is sitting near the door, the tiny lamp on the table turned down as dim as it would go. Next to the lamp is the wrapped bundle he had been carrying earlier. He and John have not let it out of their sight.
She rolls onto her back and shakes her head. "It's a little much to take in," she whispers.
He steps across the room to the window, which is closed against the bitter cold of the night, and looks outside, automatically checking for dangers. "It's been hard for him," he says, glancing at John, who is asleep on the floor not far from her. "Trying to keep them all together without you."
Elizabeth realizes that John's report on the welfare of their people had excluded himself. She doesn't know where he got the scar on his cheek, or when his hair began to turn so gray. "He blamed himself," she says quietly, knowing that John would have taken her abduction and the failure to recover her personally.
Ronon is little more than an outline against the faint light from outside. "After Ford, I think the not knowing was the worst part."
She nods, more to herself than to him, then can't not say something. "I imagine Major Lorne leaving with Teyla didn't help."
Ronon's response is grim. "They fought for weeks before she left. She needed to go, but he didn't want to accept it. Everyone thought he was jealous."
She tilts her head at him, the gesture startling her a little with long-forgotten habit. "But you don't?"
"I think it was more about losing more people." Ronon stands up straight.
Elizabeth looks at the sleeping figure. "I wish-" she starts and then stops. She isn't sure what she wishes for. That she had been there to do her job, that she hadn't lost the last three years. That none of them had come to the Pegasus galaxy, maybe.
"It'll be all right now." Ronon sounds far more confident about it then she feels. "You did the important thing. You survived."
She thinks of Cadman, of Radek, of Nita and Garlen and the others. Ronon leans over her and brushes a hand across her forehead before moving back to his chair. "Sleep."
Giving in, she curls up on her side and closes her eyes.
***
Several paths, none terribly distinct, lead from the Stargate into the trees. Ronon and John start walking towards the left, and she follows behind them, huddling under John's jacket against the cool wind.
The rest of their people are living in caves that burrowed into a large chain of mountains. This was the third planet they'd moved to after the attack on the Alpha site left them nomads for nearly four months. Rodney had found metal ore deposits in the rock that rendered scans useless, making the caves an excellent hiding place in case the Wraith appeared. There were signs that there had been a village at the point where the mountains met the ocean, but it had been abandoned for some time when they arrived.
She hikes up the steep hill, following the two of them easily. Months of hard labor have made her physically stronger, although the limited food has somewhat counteracted it.
Ronon, being Ronon, is climbing with one hand. The other is still clutching the parcel he has been toting since they found her on Yevis.
They go over the rise and start making their way down the slope towards the water. The sun is ducking in and out from behind the scattered clouds. The water is a purplish blue, unlike either the green seas on Earth or the blue-gray waters of Atlantis. The land is green, though, with grass and bushes. A narrow strip of dark sand marks the beach.
She wonders for a moment if John has attempted to go surfing in the water, and the thought of such a thing seems so wildly incongruous to her life just hours ago that for a moment she wonders if she's gone crazy and this is all just a hallucination.
Then Ronon raises a hand towards a tree, and a Marine steps out from his cover and nods to them. She searches for a name and can't find it before his eyes rest on her and then widen in shock. "Holy shit," he blurts out, and then turns bright pink. "Sorry, ma'am."
There is a half a second where it doesn't register that he's addressing his apology to her. Then she manages to smile. "Don't worry about it, Lieutenant. I've been thinking the same thing myself." Lieutenant Carpazin, she finally remembers.
He smiles at her with genuine happiness. Elizabeth is relieved that Ronon keeps walking.
They draw closer to the base of the mountains and she can see signs of activity now. The climb becomes steeper and John reaches out to help her, but she ignores his hand and scrambles up on her own power, concentrating in the sharp rock digging into her palms and the stretch and pull of muscle to avoid the fact that people are starting to catch sight of them.
Whispers are beginning when John beckons one of the slack-jawed Marines and takes his radio. "Rodney? You should get down to the main entrance."
A familiar voice crackles over the radio. "Ah, you're back? How'd it go?"
John smiles at her. "Rodney? Just trust me, you're going to want to come down here."
People start to surround them, calling to her and reaching to touch her hands or hug her. Elizabeth fights off the desire to pull away from so many bodies aiming for her. She is slightly reassured by the way Ronon has planted himself behind her and won't move.
A woman is carrying a basket of clothing out of the tunnel in front of them. She looks at the growing crowd, sees Elizabeth and drops the basket in shock.
Carson looks over at Kate, and then follows Kate's gaze to the three of them, standing in the open space before the tunnel entrance. Elizabeth hears Carson's muttered, "My God" and then he is running down the path, barely glancing at John or Ronon. Kate is right at his heels.
As John did, Carson touches her face, looks into her eyes. He has a fully grown beard now, and his hair is longer, but his blue eyes remain almost as she remembered them. "Elizabeth?"
"Hello, Carson."
The whispering around them has turned into babbling and laughter. Carson hugs her and she has barely let him go when Kate grabs her fiercely. "Oh thank God, Elizabeth, you're alive!"
"Where on Earth were you? What happened?" Carson asks, glancing at John in question.
Before anyone can really answer, Rodney appears, coming from behind them. "Colonel? What-"
His question dies on his lips as the crowd parts and Rodney freezes for a moment, staring at Elizabeth. He is thinner, she instantly sees, and his hair is starting to disappear above his high forehead. His cheeks are hollowed, his face more defined. He looks at her for a long moment in silence, as if he's seeing a ghost.
Elizabeth wants to speak. She tries but nothing will come out of her mouth. Somehow the reality of everything has not sunk in until this moment, standing there looking at the first person who joined her in Antarctica all those years ago. The truth of the fact that he is alive, that they all are alive, that she is still alive, finally hits home.
"Elizabeth?" Rodney's hand flails towards her, his usually expressive gestures abortive and confused, and she reaches out and grabs his fingers. Rodney looks down at their hands, as if he has to see the fact that they are touching to really believe it. When he looks back at her, she is strangely stunned to see tears in his eyes. Then he tugs on her arm and Elizabeth buries her face in Rodney's shoulder as he envelops her in a massive hug.
Around them, the rest of the Atlantis survivors begin to cheer at the top of their lungs.
***
Carson soon pries her from the group to lead her to his makeshift infirmary, which is not far down the main tunnel closest to the base of the mountain. Kate disappears to find Elizabeth some more suitable clothing. John pulls Carson aside before they leave, and Elizabeth is in no doubt that the scarring on her back will receive close scrutiny.
She settles onto the gurney, relieved to be off her feet. She slept for barely three hours the night before and the exhaustion combined with the emotional turmoil is making it difficult to stay upright.
"I can't believe it," Carson is saying, almost to himself. "Three years as a slave, to survive that long. What you must have gone through." His face is full of sympathy, but something lurks in his eyes and he hesitates a moment.
She forestalls his question. "I'm sorry, Carson. Laura died three years ago."
Pain flashes across his face, but he nods. "Do you know how?"
Her throat tightens. "We were purchased by the same man, the first time. He beat her." She viciously pushes away the memory of Laura's broken, bleeding body, lying on the cold ground, and the rasping sound of her unfulfilled last request.
Carson's eyes go cold. "Why?"
Elizabeth thinks he already knows the answer. "He tried to rape her, and she fought back." The next words spill out, almost defensively. "If she hadn't been so hungry, and so tired..."
Carson fusses with his equipment for a moment. "What happened to him, then?"
"He's dead. He died from the injuries she inflicted." She doesn't waver.
She hears him mutter "good" low enough that it could be denied. He turns back, all business. "Well, I'm glad you've been safely returned to us." His smile is genuine, and Elizabeth offers a tiny smile in return.
He begins to question her about the injuries she's sustained over the past three years of her captivity, and Elizabeth reluctantly tells him some of the truth.
***
Less than forty people remain in the Pegasus galaxy from the planet Earth. The bulk of their expedition was sent back when it became clear that the city was in real peril. A skeleton crew of key personnel and volunteers had remained to oversee the destruction of the most valuable possession known to the galaxy.
She had insisted on being one of the last to leave after they activated the self-destruct. John had been at her side, hustling people through the gate. She'd looked around at the beautiful city that had been their home for four years, and for a moment, almost stayed. She considered just giving John a push, sending him through the event horizon, and remaining to go down with the city.
If she hadn't been so afraid John was thinking the same thing, she might have done it. Instead, she grabbed his hand and made him come through the gate with her.
Over the past three years, she has thought of that moment over and over. There are supposedly other realities out there, and she thinks in one of them, Elizabeth Weir died along with the city of Atlantis. The thought has offered her a strange comfort at times.
Most of the remaining team members gather around the open fires that night. They seem to be taking the return of Dr. Weir as a sign, coupled with the news about the Wraith. There is a strong feeling of celebration.
At the same time, she has a sense that they are collectively holding something back from her. She looks from one familiar face to another and stretches herself, trying to remember how to assess a look for more than a straightforward threat.
She sits at one of the fires, explaining the general history of the past three years, skipping over the gruesome details. It feels strangely distant at the moment, like recounting a bad dream that she can only half-remember, now that she's surrounded by familiar faces, warm and mercifully clean. Or maybe this is the dream, and she'll wake up soon. The thorough bath she'd taken in lukewarm water had felt almost too good to be real. Rodney, Carson and Kate hover around her, treating her like a recovering invalid, despite Carson declaring her in "remarkably good shape, all things considered."
Carson had examined her and questioned her closely about the abuse at the hands of her three owners. He looked profoundly relieved when she assured him she had never been raped. Technically, it was true. Not for the first time, she had wondered why it was more acceptable, even in her own mind, to be beaten than to be violated in that fashion.
Carson's general assurances seemed to mollify John, but he still watches her closely all night. She's fairly sure John sees her flinch when Rodney jumps up abruptly to get something for her. She ducks back from the movement in instinctive alarm before she can stop herself.
She avoids looking John's way for a long time after that.
There were no whole uniforms left among the group's clothes, but she is in a long-sleeved black tunic she thinks used to be John's, an extra pair of Kate's cargo pants and boots, and wearing a real bra and cotton underwear for the first time in ages. The bra feels confining and unfamiliar on her body, but the underwear is heavenly compared to what she's become used to. She's faintly embarrassed that the sensation of the soft material between her thighs is arousing.
It occurs to her that she doesn't know where she is to sleep.
With a strange intuition, or perhaps because she keeps yawning hugely, Ronon suggests that she must be tired and needing to rest.
It quickly becomes apparent that no one else has considered her sleeping arrangements yet either.
"You can stay with us tonight," Kate says, glancing at Carson for his assent.
Elizabeth nods, thinking it might be for the best, although she's a little nervous that Kate is almost anticipating getting Elizabeth to talk about her experiences.
They show her to the cavern off the main tunnel that Kate and Carson have established as their home and Ronon and Carson bring in a cot for her to sleep on. Once the bed is made up and she has everything she needs for the night, Kate and Carson leave. Ronon hangs back for a moment. "Do you want me to stay?" he asks seriously.
"I think I'm okay," she says, but is grateful for the offer. "Where do you sleep?" she asks. She's just curious about the living arrangements of the team but Ronon raises his eyebrows at her for a moment and she flushes a little. He grins.
He waves towards the central tunnel. "The first space past the entrance." It makes sense. Anything that tries to come into the living area would have to get past Ronon first.
She knows he can see that she understands the implicit message. She is safe here. "Thank you."
"Sleep well," he says and leaves.
Elizabeth takes off her boots and crawls into the cot. She half-expects another long night of staring into the dark, but she falls asleep almost as soon as she closes her eyes.
***
Elizabeth spends the next morning sleeping, and the afternoon with Kate, being shown around most of the settlement. Resilience coupled with ingenuity have transformed the cave system into a fairly comfortable habitat. She remembers how proud she always was of these people.
She notices a barely visible trail away from the main tunnel, up higher into the rock face. It was the direction Rodney had come from the day before. She says nothing to Kate, though, and is told nothing, and she wonders if perhaps they aren't quite as certain they can trust her as they seemed the night before.
She doesn't see Rodney, John or Ronon until the evening meal.
The next day some of her sense of unreality has faded, possibly because she's finally slept for two nights in a row. John turns up at mid-day and asks if she's up to go visiting. He looks so eager, with that expression that always reminded her of a puppy with a new toy, that she can't not smile back and agree.
They hike up to the Stargate again and he leads her through to a quiet, misty plain. Ruins are off in the distance on one side, and trees in the other. They start walking towards the brush. When a young man steps out from the trees and hails them, it takes Elizabeth almost a full minute to connect the tall, serious-eyed warrior with the little boy who frightened them all so badly in their first few days in Atlantis.
Jinto runs ahead of them to the camp, and it is a re-enactment of her arrival at the caves all over again. The Athosians in the camp leave their work and throng around her. Elizabeth twitches a little closer to John, unable to help the reaction. He puts a comforting hand on her lower back and she steadies herself.
Then she forgets her own nervousness when Teyla appears before her. The shorter woman is hugely pregnant, but her face and eyes are alight with joy. "Elizabeth!"
They hug carefully. Elizabeth can't resist placing a hand against Teyla's full belly. She looks up and meets Teyla's eyes and for a moment they simply stare at each other, all manner of things passing between them. She's forgotten this, this sense of silent communication. Since Laura's death she has been apart from everyone around her in a way that couldn't be bridged. It is like something within her that has been dormant is slowly waking.
Teyla has aged a bit, just as they all have, but she looks happy and there is peace in her face.
Elizabeth allows herself to be drawn to Teyla's home. John excuses himself to talk to Jinto and she is grateful when the tent closes out the chattering of the camp. Teyla bustles about, making tea, still eminently graceful despite the enormous protrusion of her belly. Once they are both seated at the table, her friend's wise eyes look into hers and Elizabeth finds herself desperately needing to talk.
In a rush, she blurts out where she has been for the past three years. The man who killed Laura, the second man who purchased her from the slave markets, another auction and another buyer and Bremo's estate. The guilt she has been too busy to concentrate on wells up and chokes her.
"There were at least twenty others, all of whom were being sold with me," she says, her voice rough with grief.
Teyla reaches out and takes her hand. "There is nothing you could have done to save them. Colonel Sheppard needed to bring you back to safety. Returning you to your people was the most important thing."
Elizabeth nods, but something in her does not quite agree. She is not irreplaceable, that has been proved beyond doubt. Before she can say so, though, a noise outside the tent catches her attention, and the entrance opens to reveal Major Lorne. Like Carson, he has a full beard now, and his hair has gotten longer. He is in Athosian clothes rather than a uniform, but his face is still comfortingly familiar. "Dr. Weir?"
She smiles and stands to hug him. She has been hugged more in the past three days than she has in the entirety of her life. "I can't believe this. It's a miracle."
Teyla glances at John, who has come into the tent as well. "It is extremely fortunate that Colonel Sheppard and Ronon happened to be on Yevis just at that time. If they had not been..." She leaves the sentence unfinished.
Elizabeth doesn't hear his reply, thinking of the others, the men and women shuffling through the mud in the holding pens where the slaves were kept. The ones without any hope that some old friend or relative would appear as if by magic to rescue them. Her heart aches and it must show on her face because both John and Lorne move towards her in alarm. She calls up a hasty smile and glances at Teyla.
"I see you two have been busy in my absence," she says lightly. Lorne blushes a little and Teyla automatically cradles her belly.
"If it's a girl, we were thinking of naming her Elizabeth," he says, going to stand behind Teyla, his hands on her shoulders.
Teyla looks up at him. "We still may. I would be much happier for our daughter to know the woman she is named for, instead of just carrying her name."
Lorne glances at her. "If that's okay with you, ma'am."
Elizabeth pushes down the urge to tell him not to call her that. "It's much better than okay," she says. "It's perfect."
***
The sun is low over the ocean when she and John return to the planet. Lorne has come with them, obeying some quiet command from Teyla she doesn't catch. She approaches the path up to the main tunnel, but John pauses and nods in another direction. "You want to take a walk?"
She regards him calmly. "You finally going to tell me what everyone's been hiding since I got back?"
John gapes at her in shock and she raises her eyebrow at him, feeling something within her snap back into place after far too long. Behind her she can hear Lorne chuckle. John shakes his head and mutters something to himself and starts climbing the steeper path up the rocks.
This time he doesn't try to help her, only glances over his shoulder to be sure she's keeping up. Lorne follows her carefully.
They hop up onto a ledge that appears as if by magic out of the jutting cliff face. A huge gap is in front of them, reminding her of the one time she stood in the entrance of an airplane hangar and got vertigo looking up at the tops of the doors. John walks forward and as her eyes adjust, Elizabeth begins to pick out strangely familiar shapes.
Puddle jumpers, she realizes with a start. Lined up in perfect order. Now she understands why she thought of the airplane hangar. John keeps going past them, though, and she follows obediently. She realizes that what she thought was the back wall of the cavern is actually only a small protrusion of rock from the ceiling, and there are lights coming from behind it.
They go around the last puddle jumper and Elizabeth stops short.
Sitting comfortably within the cavern is the Daedalus. Or what's left of her. The ship had supposedly been on the way from Earth when they'd been forced to destroy Atlantis. None of them had heard anything of the ship since then.
"Rodney's been working on her for nearly the entire time you've been gone," John says from her side.
"She'll fly?" Elizabeth asks, then feels stupid. Of course the ship could fly, otherwise they couldn't have gotten it in here to begin with.
But John gives her a wry smile. "She's space-worthy: engines, armaments and shielding. Rodney doesn't think she could take the haul back to the Milky Way, though."
That idea hadn't crossed her mind yet, though now she thinks of it, a small wave of sadness hits her. They still have the control crystal for the DHD, she assumes, but no power source to get back to Earth. This would have been probably their only other way.
"How did you find her?"
"Dumb luck," Lorne says from her other side. "We were scouting a planet for potential food supplies not long after we got here, and thought we'd walked into an ambush. It turned out it was the survivors from the crew."
Elizabeth glances at John and his face darkens. "They ran into the Wraith who were retreating after we destroyed the city. The ship was badly damaged. Caldwell had them find a place to land to work on repairs, but the water wasn't clean and almost the entire crew died." He doesn't say the words but she knows Stephen died that way as well.
"We brought back Rodney and some others and flew her here." John leads her into the ship and she spends a good fifteen minutes listening to Rodney babble happily about everything he's accomplished. John occasionally tries to hurry him up, or simply interjects just to needle Rodney, and Elizabeth has a feeling of déjà vu so strong she gets a little dizzy. Like she's fast-forwarded through the past three years and found things have not changed, though the scar on John's face and Teyla's swollen stomach belie that idea.
Her tour ends in what used to be the main meeting area, just behind the bridge. Ronon and Carson are there with Lorne and Kate, clearly waiting for them. Elizabeth finds herself feeling edgy with anticipation.
"I already filled Dr. Weir in on the status of the Wraith," John says to the entire table. Everyone looks at her and she clears her throat, realizing this is a full-scale briefing, and she has a role to play.
"We're sure they're really dying?"
Carson nods. "My tests were conclusive. The plague seems to have struck a huge percentage of the Wraith ships before they were aware of it spreading. From what we've heard and what data I was able to gather, I doubt they'll be able to come up with an effective treatment."
"Still," John says. "It's unlikely that even a monster bug is going to wipe them out entirely."
"Aye," Carson answers. "Some of them will likely survive. The hive ships that were alerted in time might avoid contact with the others and remain free of the disease."
"The ones who are still out there will be scattered across worlds," Ronon observes. "We'll have to hunt them down and destroy them."
"But there's a bigger issue here," John starts. Rodney cuts him off.
"A bigger opportunity, actually."
"I was getting to that."
"Too slowly."
John glares at Rodney, who simply glares back. John turns to her. "We could just celebrate the plague and go on our way, but I think this is the best opportunity we'll ever had to finish the Wraith off for good."
Elizabeth turns this over in her head. John has a solid point. The Ancients lost the war because they were outnumbered, not outgunned. Now nature has decimated the Wraith population. One problem remains, though. "How, exactly?"
The tension around the table goes up a notch and Rodney lifts the black bundle Ronon was carrying so carefully for two days up and onto the table. He looks at her for a second. "Um, the rest of the survivors know about the ship and this idea, but this is the part they don't know about yet."
She gives him a short nod.
He unwraps it carefully. Elizabeth gasps aloud. A ZPM is lying inside the material. "This is why we were on Yevis. We'd found out that one of the old temples on the planet was built by the Ancients. It had been pretty thoroughly ransacked, but apparently none of those people had the gene," John explains.
"Or a database filled with architectural plans and schematics of other Ancient buildings," Rodney added.
They were on Yevis to recover a ZPM. She had been on that planet four separate times and had no idea how close she was. Not that she could have done anything herself, even had she not been tied and caged the entire time. "Is it fully charged?"
"No," Rodney says, a faint note of disappointment in his voice. "Only about half."
"But a half-full ZPM is still plenty to do what we want it to do," John adds meaningfully.
She looks at him, then at Rodney, then around the table. Carson and Kate look unhappy. Ronon and Lorne are looking determined.
Her eyes are drawn back to the ZPM, the only power source they know of that has enough energy to open a wormhole back to Earth. "You want to trigger an explosion with the ZPM and wipe out the remaining Wraith ships," she guesses.
"It might not come to that," Rodney says hurriedly. "We're not sure exactly how many hives are still out there. Naquadah generators might be enough to get the job done."
"But, if they're not, an overloaded ZPM will definitely take 'em out."
"How?" she asks and then half-listens to Rodney's explanation of the power regulator he's rigged to hook up to the ZPM and cause it to overload. The plan John has come up with is simple. Use the Daedalus as bait, lure all the remaining Wraith ships to an uninhabited solar system, and then detonate the ZPM.
She could hardly fail to miss the predatory gleam in Ronon's eyes. Lorne isn't looking quite so ecstatic, but he's about to become a father any minute. His life is here now, and to protect his new family from their greatest enemy would be the only logical choice for him.
Her eyes go to Carson and Kate. "You don't agree with this idea."
The two of them look at each other silently for a moment. "It's not that we don't understand the value of eliminating the Wraith threat entirely," Carson explains slowly. "It's just that we're effectively giving up on the idea of ever returning to Earth."
"Not necessarily," Rodney interrupts. "There's no reason to assume there are no other ZPMs out there in Pegasus, or even some other power source we could use-"
"Rodney," she chides gently, the tone coming back to her with surprising ease. He subsides and Carson continues.
"I think the only fair thing to do is call for a vote from everyone."
Elizabeth stares at the ZPM for a moment and then notices that all of them are watching her expectantly. They are waiting on her, she realizes. Waiting on her decision, her approval or her disapproval or her questions. They want her to authorize them to go ahead.
It seems more than slightly crazy. Forty-eight hours ago she had been standing on a platform being sold to the highest bidder and they had long ago written her off as dead, and yet, they have smoothly returned her to her position.
It doesn't seem to have occurred to them to question whether she is still capable, or even wants to be restored.
She folds her hands to give herself a moment to think. It feels like two wholly separate people are shifting within her, Dr. Weir, the leader of the Atlantis expedition, and the slave woman she has been. From one moment to the next, she is bouncing between them uncertainly.
One side of her says they should do it. Wait for the best moment and strike, wipe the Wraith from existence for good.
What would Dr. Weir have done, if this was three years ago?
"We need more information, I think." She can't help but tack that last phrase on. "We're not sure of the status of the Wraith fleet yet. There's still a possibility that even a ZPM wouldn't be enough to take them all out." Her eyes go to Ronon at that, and he nods in confirmation. "But I do agree with Carson, that if the ZPM is an option, all the survivors from Earth should get a say in the decision."
She looks to John, trying to convey that she's giving an opinion, not an order. He doesn't appear to take it that way, however. "So our next step is to keep gathering as much intel as we can," he says to the group at large. "And no one mentions the ZPM to anyone outside this room, other than to Teyla," he adds with a glance at Lorne.
Elizabeth lets out a deep breath and looks at the zero point module, lying innocuously on the table.
An end to both her personal hell and the living nightmare of the Wraith. It seems like far too much to ask from the universe.
***