Fic: Simpler Than A Miracle by miera
Title: Simpler Than A Miracle
Author: miera_c
Summary: An accident traps Elizabeth and time is running out for the team to rescue her.
Pairings: Weir/Sheppard
Main characters: Elizabeth, John, Teyla
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character whumping
Spoilers: None
Beta: melyanna
Disclaimer: Not mine, we only wish they were.
Author's Notes: Pinch hit for the swficathon for mylittleredgirl whose prompts were fire or a blackout, something unspoken, Teyla/Sheppard friendship.
Elizabeth woke up and couldn't see anything.
She squinted, brought up her hand up to rub her eyes, coughed and felt pain flare sharp and bright through her body.
The pain brought the memory - the ceiling had fallen in.
Her inner voice chastised her, "The elders warned you the temple was old and unsound."
Not much to do about it now.
There was a tiny bit of light filtering in from somewhere above and to the left through a small gap. She could see thick wooden beams and pieces of the mud and stone that had made up the walls.
Elizabeth tried to reach for her radio and gasped in pain the moment she tried to move her other arm. Gingerly she felt with her good hand and touched something wet and tacky. The copper smell just confirmed it.
Then her stomach turned over as she realized something else. She reached for her radio. "John? Can anyone hear me?"
***
Teyla scrambled over the rubble to where she could see John's back and head peeking out of the pile. He was turned on his side. "John!" she called. She started grabbing at pieces of wood and brick and tossing them out of the way. "John, wake up!"
Teyla turned around. "Rodney, go back to the Stargate and get help."
It was a testament to her urgency and his own fears that Rodney ran immediately for the path back to the village and the gate without a single comment.
Ronon joined her, shaking off a daze from being hit by part of the wall. She and Rodney had been nearest to the entrance and safest. Ronon hefted a particularly large hunk of the wall out of the way and she saw with relief that John seemed caught under two beams that were resting against one another, with one of the beams propped up to create a space underneath where John's body was.
Teyla glanced over the ruined temple, pushing her fear for Elizabeth aside momentarily. They would get John free first, then they would find Elizabeth.
"Teyla," Ronon said in a warning tone.
She looked where he indicated and blanched. One of the torches that had been lit along the walls had not been extinguished when the building collapsed. Flames were licking at the old, dried out wooden beams from the roof, already spreading wide around the room.
Cursing silently, Teyla attacked the pile again until Ronon got his arms under John's shoulders and pulled him free. She sighed in relief as John mumbled in protest and went for the canteen before his eyes were fully open.
They were going to need him to get Elizabeth out. She tapped her radio as John drank. "Rodney? Tell the villagers to bring buckets for water. The debris is burning."
***
It said something - probably something bad - that John was starting to recognize different types of headaches. This was definitely the "injured on duty" type, but it took until he was propped against Ronon and sipping carefully at the water Teyla was holding for him to remember what, exactly had hit him.
Right. The temple building, that housed some artifact left by the Ancestors, that Elizabeth had wanted to get a look at-
His heart stopped. Elizabeth. She'd been standing in front of him when the building started to collapse. He'd tried to move forward and get to her as the ceiling was coming down.
He glanced around fast and saw in Teyla and Ronon's eyes what he didn't want to know. Teyla protested for a second as he struggled to his feet but she knew him better than to really object.
John stared in horror at the massive pile of rubble from the building.
The burning rubble from the building. The fire was already too big to contain. "Crap," he muttered feelingly. He stumbled his way forward, ignoring what was probably a concussion and possibly some bruised ribs. He had to put a hand on a hunk of brick to steady himself before he fell over. Where had Elizabeth been? He knew it was almost impossible to be sure where she'd ended up under this heap, but it would be worse to dig in the wrong place and waste time.
He tried his radio. There was a burst of static that made him wince, but then, mercifully, he heard a voice, "John? Can anyone hear me?"
"Elizabeth, it's me. Are you all right?" Ronon and Teyla were starting to sift through the debris already, looking for some sign of her.
"I'm trapped," Elizabeth said in his ear. Her voice was shaking in a way that made his anxiety jump another notch. "I think I broke my arm. Something's bleeding-"
He folded his lips together. "Elizabeth, can you see anything? Anything that might tell us where you are?"
There was a short pause. "I can see a little bit of light. It's pretty far overhead, and to my left."
"Can you try to get to it?"
Her response was quiet, almost a sigh. "No."
She sounded defeated. His voice became much harsher than he intended it to be, but he was starting to panic, watching the flames inching closer to where Ronon was trying to dig. "Why not?" he snapped into the radio.
"My legs are trapped under one of the beams."
***
John was talking to her through the radio, telling her she had air so she wasn't in danger of suffocating, that Rodney was on the way with help from Atlantis. His breathing was labored, like he was out of breath from exertion. He muttered something about wishing the puddle jumpers had transporter capability. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes.
Then he yelled in her ear. "Elizabeth! Elizabeth, talk to me!" John sounded frantic.
"What?" she mumbled. "What's wrong?"
"You have to talk to me. You have to stay awake."
"I'm sleepy," she protested. It was so dark in here, there wasn't much else to do but sleep. "Cold," she added. Her hurt arm was lying uselessly along her side. She folded her other arm over her chest, wishing for a blanket.
"I know you're tired, Elizabeth, but you're going into shock and you need to stay conscious." He grunted and she grinned a little, picturing the way his face contorted weirdly sometimes. "We're going to get you out of there, but you need to stay with me."
"It's not like I'm going anywhere," she shot back sarcastically.
"Right," he panted. His voice took on that deliberately-casual, snide tone he sometimes used. "So since I have you as a captive audience, would this be a good time to bring up the issue of required combat practice drills for the civilian staff, including the leader of the expedition?"
She kind of wanted to stick her tongue out at him. "You think while I'm bleeding and smothered under rocks is a good time to try to get me to cave?"
John groaned. "Leave it to you to find a bad pun in this situation."
She was rather proud of that one. "We never have fun conversations," she pouted at him.
"What do you want to talk about, then?"
Her back ached and she tried to shift into a more comfortable position but froze almost immediately, hissing in pain.
"What?" John asked instantly.
"Nothing," she hedged, easing back into her original position.
"Elizabeth," he growled.
"My back. I tried to move."
"Well, don't," he told her somewhat petulantly.
This time she remembered he couldn't see her, so she did stick her tongue out into the dark. Then she licked her lips. "I'm thirsty."
There was a momentary pause. "Did you have your pack with you?" Teyla's voice came over the radio.
She frowned. It was hard to remember, to think at all, really. "No," she answered slowly. "I took it off near the door." Water would be really good right now. Her throat was dry and her eyes burned. Big tall glass of iced tea would work too. While she was sitting in a swimming pool. "A lime popsicle."
"What?" John asked.
"Hmm?"
She could practically hear the amused look that was no doubt on his face. "Elizabeth, you just started talking about popsicles."
"I want a lime popsicle."
"I'll get you a whole case, if you just stay awake." He paused for a moment and then came back, "Why lime?"
"What's wrong with lime?" she mumbled, leaning her head against a convenient outcropping of brick.
"Nothing. I just figured you more for a cherry flavored person."
"Why?"
"All those red shirts."
"Maybe I just like the irony of wearing a red shirt."
John actually chuckled in her ear. "Don't tell me you're a closet Trekkie and I haven't known it all this time."
"I think the proper name is Trekker."
"Rodney's going to die of joy when I tell him this."
"Traitor," she accused. Her dry throat was getting worse and she coughed. Even though she tried to contain it, the movement wracked her body with pain, and the sob came out through her clenched teeth a second before she covered her mouth with her hand.
"Elizabeth? Elizabeth, are you okay?"
"Yes," she choked out, wiping the tears that had slipped down her cheeks. "It's just so dry and smoky in here..." She trailed off, looking up at the tiny hole of light, which was dimmer now. Dread coiled in her stomach. "John, why do I smell barbecue?"
"Um, well, some of the rubble is burning," John said slowly.
Elizabeth licked her lips, her fingers unconsciously clenching. "Define 'some'."
"A lot of it," he conceded.
Suddenly there was no air in her tiny prison. Elizabeth grabbed hold of the jutting brick from the wall, instinctively trying to pull herself up or out or just somehow free, getting only another wave of terrible pain for her trouble. She was breathing heavily. Was it her imagination or could she feel heat from somewhere?
"Elizabeth, calm down," John ordered.
"Calm down?" she demanded, more than a little outraged. She was trapped under a pile of burning debris that was who knew how big and he wanted her to be the picture of zen?
"The others will be here soon," John said in her ear. He was trying to sound soothing, which perversely made her feel even worse. "They'll bring water, we'll douse the fire."
"You don't even know where I am," she retorted. Of all the methods of death, burning alive was the one she feared the most. From the very first time she'd heard about witches being burned at the stake, the idea had haunted her. Anything would be better than suffering that pain and knowing what it was bringing.
Ronon's voice suddenly intruded. "Can you move anything? Any of the pieces around you?"
It would help them if they had some idea where she was. She swallowed, trying to get her panic under control. "I'll try."
She could barely see, so she had to work by moving her good hand along the edges of the rubble, all the while afraid she would injure that hand or arm too. Plus the fear that the wrong move would bring everything down upon her for good. Though a tiny part of her brain considered that that would be better than the fire option.
Also she had no idea which direction was nearest to John or the surface of her impromptu tomb.
Her hand closed around something that felt loose. She pushed, but the angle was awkward and she couldn't get it to budge.
"Anything?" John asked.
She frowned, thinking of something Radek had said once. She didn't remember what the conversation had been about, or what precisely he'd said, but instead of pushing, she pulled.
A narrow piece of the beam slid inwards, and she heard the clatter of something falling.
"Here!" That was Teyla's voice, she thought, a tremor passing through her. It hadn't been over the radio. It was coming from her left.
"I'm here!" she yelled, reaching for the beam again. She pushed it back out, harder, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder. It moved further than before, so she did it again, and again. "I'm here!"
***
Teyla struggled for a minute to find solid footing. She'd seen when the rubble shifted, and they could hear Elizabeth shouting from under the pile. Now they knew where she was buried.
Unfortunately, she was under a large heap of debris. It was going to take time to get her out, and the fire was nearly out of control. Though the smoke was free to vent out into the sky, the open air was fanning the flames. They'd used the water in two of the canteens to soak some of the wood and keep the fire away from them, but it wasn't nearly enough to put out the whole thing.
And once the wooden beams burned to ash, they would collapse. The entire pile could shift and crush Elizabeth at any moment.
Teyla ignored her own pains and kept digging. John was gray-faced from fatigue and she almost suggested he rest, but it would do no good. He wouldn't stop, not with Elizabeth trapped.
He tried to draw her back into a conversation, but Elizabeth's replies were growing more disjointed. Then she spoke in a small voice, "John?"
"What?" he asked, his shoulders tensing visibly.
"I can feel heat along one of my legs," Elizabeth said, barely above a whisper. "I hoped I was imagining it, but..."
John paused for a moment, his hand pressed against a piece of stone lying in the pile in front of him. Teyla knew it was only his own injuries and the nature of the situation that made John do this, and she turned away. John was her friend, and so was Elizabeth, but Teyla didn't want to intrude on this. It was between them, and she would give them what little privacy she could.
"I'll get to you," John promised Elizabeth lowly. "I'll get to you, Elizabeth." He resumed working.
Teyla focused on the rubble, hauling it away as fast as she could manage.
***
Elizabeth didn't want to talk, because if she did, it would be obvious she was crying, and she didn't want John to know she was crying. She wanted him to think she was braver than this.
But the heat was intensifying near her right leg, and no matter how she tried, she couldn't get far enough away.
It was getting harder and harder to breathe, too. If she was lucky she'd pass out from the smoke long before... well, before.
I don't want to die like this, she thought to herself.
"You are not going to die," John bellowed through her radio, startling her. She hadn't realized she'd said it out loud. His voice softened to that tone that always struck her nervous system like a bell ringing. "Elizabeth, please," he begged. "Just hang on."
Something shifted and a crack echoed around her. Elizabeth ducked her head instinctively, but when the rest of the pile didn't come down, she looked up.
Light. She could see real light, a few inches above her head.
"Here!" She thrust her hand up, into the shaft of light.
Another hand appeared. Teyla's fingers closed around hers, squeezing tightly with reassuring warmth for a moment before withdrawing again. The scrabbling sounds on the rocks grew much louder, and over the sounds of the the shifting rubble, she heard other voices.
Come on, she thought, her hand gripping the brick outcropping so tightly her knuckles were white. Come on, come on. She was careful to keep her lips together so she didn't say it aloud.
Then she noticed a noise. A crackling sound, ominously close to her side. Something bright and orange flickered at the edge of her vision. The words slipped out without her control, "Oh my God."
***
John had never been so happy to see Rodney running with a pack of villagers behind him. He took one look at the room and John barely caught his broken, "Oh, no" before Rodney was clambering around Teyla's other side and helping toss rocks. The villagers quickly began to organize themselves to bring buckets. Some of the women ran out and came back a minute later with wet cloths. They started beating at the flames nearest to Ronon.
A tiny avalanche came free as Teyla moved something and then Elizabeth shouted. Teyla leaned forward, "I can see her hand."
She reached into the pile to touch Elizabeth for a moment. When she pulled back, her fingers were bloody. John told himself it was Teyla's blood, not Elizabeth's.
The water brigade arrived and began dumping buckets onto the flames. Almost there, John thought to himself. Just a few more minutes. They just needed a few more minutes.
As usual, they didn't get them. Elizabeth's voice came over the radio, "Oh my God."
"What is it?" he demanded.
"I can see the fire. It's right near my leg." The fear in her voice made his stomach turn over. "John...?"
In desperation, he threw himself forward, digging his feet into the rubble until they met resistance. Then he pushed, with every ounce of strength he could manage. He felt Ronon and Teyla's strength join his effort, and heard Rodney yell at the villagers, "Get back! Get back!"
Half the pile tumbled over, clattering and scattering flaming debris every which way. But Rodney and Teyla were digging and then Elizabeth's head and shoulders came free.
"Here! Water!" John yelled, pointing at where he could see the burning log and flames frighteningly close to Elizabeth. The man at the front of the bucket line ran forward and dumped water over Elizabeth's legs, putting out the flames. John let out a single breath in relief. At least that danger was gone.
John bent over and Elizabeth reached her arm around his shoulders. He didn't mean to hug her but he let himself stay still, wrapping his arms around her torso and pressing his hands against her body for a moment. Her fingers dug into his back and he could feel how she was shaking. But they needed to get her out of there. Teyla positioned herself near Elizabeth's head and they tried to pull her free.
Elizabeth cried out in pain, her legs still stuck, and they stopped, setting her back down. Rodney climbed around them, hunting through the rubble, much of which was still burning.
"There," he pointed. One of the beams from the ceiling was over Elizabeth's legs, and it was buried on one end under the new pile John had created in getting Elizabeth out into the open air. Rodney waved. "Ronon, get-"
The rest of the directions weren't necessary. Ronon moved the end of the beam, while a few of the other men scuttled to help him. John and Teyla got hold of Elizabeth again and Rodney grabbed a piece of unburned wood and wedged it as far as he could under the beam near Elizabeth's foot. Without any further preparation, Rodney said, "On three. One, two, three!"
With a lot of grunting and more falling debris, the beam lifted up off the ground a few inches and Elizabeth's legs were free. She sobbed again but John lifted her up and out, Teyla supporting her head. As soon as she was loose, Ronon and Rodney and the others let go and the beam crashed back to the floor.
John staggered, taking Elizabeth's weight on his damaged ribs while his footing was still unstable in the rubble. Rodney's arm went around John's waist and he steadied them all so they could get out onto the open grass away from the wrecked building.
John set Elizabeth down as carefully as he could manage. Teyla had run for her pack and was already rifling for the first aid kit. John collapsed onto the ground, groaning softly. He hadn't really felt how stiff and sore he was until right now.
He laid on his side. Rodney offered Elizabeth a sip of water. John could see blood matted in her hair. There was a scorch mark on her trousers, reminding him just how close she'd come.
But she was alive.
Rodney pillowed Elizabeth's head on his jacket and then looked up. A puddle jumper flew over them and John sighed in relief. Carson would be here soon and Elizabeth would be all right. He reached over and touched Elizabeth's hand carefully.
She turned and looked at him, her fingers flexing around his, but he pulled them free. There were tearstains on her face and he wiped the fresh tear away from her cheek with his thumb.
Her eyes closed and he let the backs of his fingers rest against her skin for a moment before there were more people bustling around them and he had to pull away.
***
She lost time like a gear slipping tracks. She remembered John and Rodney hovering over her, and Carson saying something, but then she was looking at the roof of the puddle jumper. The next thing she remembered was waking up in the infirmary briefly before she was pulled back under.
In her dreams, the fire surrounded her. Crackling maliciously, there was no way to escape from it, no matter which way she ran.
Elizabeth woke up wanting to scream, but her throat was dry and she started to cough terribly.
"Shh," someone was soothing her, and she recognized him long before her conscious mind could process who it had to be. She managed to stifle the coughing and lean back in the bed, and John offered her a cup of ice chips with a spoon sticking out of it.
Elizabeth fumbled with her left hand, trying to take the spoon, but she was too groggy to make it work.
Mercifully John didn't say anything, just took the spoon himself and fed her. The icy cold sensation was a relief to her parched throat and the memory of the dream.
"Carson says you're going to be okay," John told her. "No permanent damage. But you'll probably be in here for a few days so he can hover."
She smiled slightly. Now that her throat wasn't so dry, she managed to whisper, "Anyone else?"
He shrugged. "Ronon's black and blue, but you know how he is."
The medicine made it tough to focus, but she managed to look at him. "I strained some ribs," John admitted. "We all had smoke inhalation. Nothing major."
It could have been much worse, she knew. It almost was.
Tears welled up against her will. She hated crying in front of people.
"Hey, it's okay, Elizabeth. Everyone's okay."
She nodded, waving weakly at her traitorous eyes. "It's just the drugs," she said feebly, not looking at him.
John's voice dropped, low and soft, and that made her want to cry harder, as did the feeling of his hand brushing against her cheek. "You're safe, Elizabeth. You're safe."
She reached up and took his hand. "You got me out," she mumbled. The tiny emotional outburst had drained what little energy she had.
"Told you," John said, his lips lifting with a smile that didn't quite match the warmth in his eyes. His fingers squeezing hers gently was the last thing she registered before she fell asleep again.
***
Teyla hovered halfway across the infirmary. She could see that Elizabeth had woken up, and that she was talking to John, but even from across the room, it was obvious the conversation was private.
She watched John brush tears from Elizabeth's face. Teyla couldn't recall him ever making such an intimate gesture with anyone else, nor could she envision Elizabeth allowing it were she not in an infirmary bed and heavily sedated.
Or perhaps Elizabeth allowed it because it was John.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and Teyla saw that John was holding Elizabeth's uninjured hand in both of his. He was still in the infirmary scrubs, and Carson said it was nothing short of a miracle John had managed to move with two broken ribs and a concussion, much less help dig Elizabeth out of the rubble.
Watching John watch Elizabeth sleeping, Teyla thought it was much simpler than a miracle.
She turned away, leaving her friends to their privacy. She would come back in the morning.
Author: miera_c
Summary: An accident traps Elizabeth and time is running out for the team to rescue her.
Pairings: Weir/Sheppard
Main characters: Elizabeth, John, Teyla
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character whumping
Spoilers: None
Beta: melyanna
Disclaimer: Not mine, we only wish they were.
Author's Notes: Pinch hit for the swficathon for mylittleredgirl whose prompts were fire or a blackout, something unspoken, Teyla/Sheppard friendship.
Elizabeth woke up and couldn't see anything.
She squinted, brought up her hand up to rub her eyes, coughed and felt pain flare sharp and bright through her body.
The pain brought the memory - the ceiling had fallen in.
Her inner voice chastised her, "The elders warned you the temple was old and unsound."
Not much to do about it now.
There was a tiny bit of light filtering in from somewhere above and to the left through a small gap. She could see thick wooden beams and pieces of the mud and stone that had made up the walls.
Elizabeth tried to reach for her radio and gasped in pain the moment she tried to move her other arm. Gingerly she felt with her good hand and touched something wet and tacky. The copper smell just confirmed it.
Then her stomach turned over as she realized something else. She reached for her radio. "John? Can anyone hear me?"
***
Teyla scrambled over the rubble to where she could see John's back and head peeking out of the pile. He was turned on his side. "John!" she called. She started grabbing at pieces of wood and brick and tossing them out of the way. "John, wake up!"
Teyla turned around. "Rodney, go back to the Stargate and get help."
It was a testament to her urgency and his own fears that Rodney ran immediately for the path back to the village and the gate without a single comment.
Ronon joined her, shaking off a daze from being hit by part of the wall. She and Rodney had been nearest to the entrance and safest. Ronon hefted a particularly large hunk of the wall out of the way and she saw with relief that John seemed caught under two beams that were resting against one another, with one of the beams propped up to create a space underneath where John's body was.
Teyla glanced over the ruined temple, pushing her fear for Elizabeth aside momentarily. They would get John free first, then they would find Elizabeth.
"Teyla," Ronon said in a warning tone.
She looked where he indicated and blanched. One of the torches that had been lit along the walls had not been extinguished when the building collapsed. Flames were licking at the old, dried out wooden beams from the roof, already spreading wide around the room.
Cursing silently, Teyla attacked the pile again until Ronon got his arms under John's shoulders and pulled him free. She sighed in relief as John mumbled in protest and went for the canteen before his eyes were fully open.
They were going to need him to get Elizabeth out. She tapped her radio as John drank. "Rodney? Tell the villagers to bring buckets for water. The debris is burning."
***
It said something - probably something bad - that John was starting to recognize different types of headaches. This was definitely the "injured on duty" type, but it took until he was propped against Ronon and sipping carefully at the water Teyla was holding for him to remember what, exactly had hit him.
Right. The temple building, that housed some artifact left by the Ancestors, that Elizabeth had wanted to get a look at-
His heart stopped. Elizabeth. She'd been standing in front of him when the building started to collapse. He'd tried to move forward and get to her as the ceiling was coming down.
He glanced around fast and saw in Teyla and Ronon's eyes what he didn't want to know. Teyla protested for a second as he struggled to his feet but she knew him better than to really object.
John stared in horror at the massive pile of rubble from the building.
The burning rubble from the building. The fire was already too big to contain. "Crap," he muttered feelingly. He stumbled his way forward, ignoring what was probably a concussion and possibly some bruised ribs. He had to put a hand on a hunk of brick to steady himself before he fell over. Where had Elizabeth been? He knew it was almost impossible to be sure where she'd ended up under this heap, but it would be worse to dig in the wrong place and waste time.
He tried his radio. There was a burst of static that made him wince, but then, mercifully, he heard a voice, "John? Can anyone hear me?"
"Elizabeth, it's me. Are you all right?" Ronon and Teyla were starting to sift through the debris already, looking for some sign of her.
"I'm trapped," Elizabeth said in his ear. Her voice was shaking in a way that made his anxiety jump another notch. "I think I broke my arm. Something's bleeding-"
He folded his lips together. "Elizabeth, can you see anything? Anything that might tell us where you are?"
There was a short pause. "I can see a little bit of light. It's pretty far overhead, and to my left."
"Can you try to get to it?"
Her response was quiet, almost a sigh. "No."
She sounded defeated. His voice became much harsher than he intended it to be, but he was starting to panic, watching the flames inching closer to where Ronon was trying to dig. "Why not?" he snapped into the radio.
"My legs are trapped under one of the beams."
***
John was talking to her through the radio, telling her she had air so she wasn't in danger of suffocating, that Rodney was on the way with help from Atlantis. His breathing was labored, like he was out of breath from exertion. He muttered something about wishing the puddle jumpers had transporter capability. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes.
Then he yelled in her ear. "Elizabeth! Elizabeth, talk to me!" John sounded frantic.
"What?" she mumbled. "What's wrong?"
"You have to talk to me. You have to stay awake."
"I'm sleepy," she protested. It was so dark in here, there wasn't much else to do but sleep. "Cold," she added. Her hurt arm was lying uselessly along her side. She folded her other arm over her chest, wishing for a blanket.
"I know you're tired, Elizabeth, but you're going into shock and you need to stay conscious." He grunted and she grinned a little, picturing the way his face contorted weirdly sometimes. "We're going to get you out of there, but you need to stay with me."
"It's not like I'm going anywhere," she shot back sarcastically.
"Right," he panted. His voice took on that deliberately-casual, snide tone he sometimes used. "So since I have you as a captive audience, would this be a good time to bring up the issue of required combat practice drills for the civilian staff, including the leader of the expedition?"
She kind of wanted to stick her tongue out at him. "You think while I'm bleeding and smothered under rocks is a good time to try to get me to cave?"
John groaned. "Leave it to you to find a bad pun in this situation."
She was rather proud of that one. "We never have fun conversations," she pouted at him.
"What do you want to talk about, then?"
Her back ached and she tried to shift into a more comfortable position but froze almost immediately, hissing in pain.
"What?" John asked instantly.
"Nothing," she hedged, easing back into her original position.
"Elizabeth," he growled.
"My back. I tried to move."
"Well, don't," he told her somewhat petulantly.
This time she remembered he couldn't see her, so she did stick her tongue out into the dark. Then she licked her lips. "I'm thirsty."
There was a momentary pause. "Did you have your pack with you?" Teyla's voice came over the radio.
She frowned. It was hard to remember, to think at all, really. "No," she answered slowly. "I took it off near the door." Water would be really good right now. Her throat was dry and her eyes burned. Big tall glass of iced tea would work too. While she was sitting in a swimming pool. "A lime popsicle."
"What?" John asked.
"Hmm?"
She could practically hear the amused look that was no doubt on his face. "Elizabeth, you just started talking about popsicles."
"I want a lime popsicle."
"I'll get you a whole case, if you just stay awake." He paused for a moment and then came back, "Why lime?"
"What's wrong with lime?" she mumbled, leaning her head against a convenient outcropping of brick.
"Nothing. I just figured you more for a cherry flavored person."
"Why?"
"All those red shirts."
"Maybe I just like the irony of wearing a red shirt."
John actually chuckled in her ear. "Don't tell me you're a closet Trekkie and I haven't known it all this time."
"I think the proper name is Trekker."
"Rodney's going to die of joy when I tell him this."
"Traitor," she accused. Her dry throat was getting worse and she coughed. Even though she tried to contain it, the movement wracked her body with pain, and the sob came out through her clenched teeth a second before she covered her mouth with her hand.
"Elizabeth? Elizabeth, are you okay?"
"Yes," she choked out, wiping the tears that had slipped down her cheeks. "It's just so dry and smoky in here..." She trailed off, looking up at the tiny hole of light, which was dimmer now. Dread coiled in her stomach. "John, why do I smell barbecue?"
"Um, well, some of the rubble is burning," John said slowly.
Elizabeth licked her lips, her fingers unconsciously clenching. "Define 'some'."
"A lot of it," he conceded.
Suddenly there was no air in her tiny prison. Elizabeth grabbed hold of the jutting brick from the wall, instinctively trying to pull herself up or out or just somehow free, getting only another wave of terrible pain for her trouble. She was breathing heavily. Was it her imagination or could she feel heat from somewhere?
"Elizabeth, calm down," John ordered.
"Calm down?" she demanded, more than a little outraged. She was trapped under a pile of burning debris that was who knew how big and he wanted her to be the picture of zen?
"The others will be here soon," John said in her ear. He was trying to sound soothing, which perversely made her feel even worse. "They'll bring water, we'll douse the fire."
"You don't even know where I am," she retorted. Of all the methods of death, burning alive was the one she feared the most. From the very first time she'd heard about witches being burned at the stake, the idea had haunted her. Anything would be better than suffering that pain and knowing what it was bringing.
Ronon's voice suddenly intruded. "Can you move anything? Any of the pieces around you?"
It would help them if they had some idea where she was. She swallowed, trying to get her panic under control. "I'll try."
She could barely see, so she had to work by moving her good hand along the edges of the rubble, all the while afraid she would injure that hand or arm too. Plus the fear that the wrong move would bring everything down upon her for good. Though a tiny part of her brain considered that that would be better than the fire option.
Also she had no idea which direction was nearest to John or the surface of her impromptu tomb.
Her hand closed around something that felt loose. She pushed, but the angle was awkward and she couldn't get it to budge.
"Anything?" John asked.
She frowned, thinking of something Radek had said once. She didn't remember what the conversation had been about, or what precisely he'd said, but instead of pushing, she pulled.
A narrow piece of the beam slid inwards, and she heard the clatter of something falling.
"Here!" That was Teyla's voice, she thought, a tremor passing through her. It hadn't been over the radio. It was coming from her left.
"I'm here!" she yelled, reaching for the beam again. She pushed it back out, harder, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder. It moved further than before, so she did it again, and again. "I'm here!"
***
Teyla struggled for a minute to find solid footing. She'd seen when the rubble shifted, and they could hear Elizabeth shouting from under the pile. Now they knew where she was buried.
Unfortunately, she was under a large heap of debris. It was going to take time to get her out, and the fire was nearly out of control. Though the smoke was free to vent out into the sky, the open air was fanning the flames. They'd used the water in two of the canteens to soak some of the wood and keep the fire away from them, but it wasn't nearly enough to put out the whole thing.
And once the wooden beams burned to ash, they would collapse. The entire pile could shift and crush Elizabeth at any moment.
Teyla ignored her own pains and kept digging. John was gray-faced from fatigue and she almost suggested he rest, but it would do no good. He wouldn't stop, not with Elizabeth trapped.
He tried to draw her back into a conversation, but Elizabeth's replies were growing more disjointed. Then she spoke in a small voice, "John?"
"What?" he asked, his shoulders tensing visibly.
"I can feel heat along one of my legs," Elizabeth said, barely above a whisper. "I hoped I was imagining it, but..."
John paused for a moment, his hand pressed against a piece of stone lying in the pile in front of him. Teyla knew it was only his own injuries and the nature of the situation that made John do this, and she turned away. John was her friend, and so was Elizabeth, but Teyla didn't want to intrude on this. It was between them, and she would give them what little privacy she could.
"I'll get to you," John promised Elizabeth lowly. "I'll get to you, Elizabeth." He resumed working.
Teyla focused on the rubble, hauling it away as fast as she could manage.
***
Elizabeth didn't want to talk, because if she did, it would be obvious she was crying, and she didn't want John to know she was crying. She wanted him to think she was braver than this.
But the heat was intensifying near her right leg, and no matter how she tried, she couldn't get far enough away.
It was getting harder and harder to breathe, too. If she was lucky she'd pass out from the smoke long before... well, before.
I don't want to die like this, she thought to herself.
"You are not going to die," John bellowed through her radio, startling her. She hadn't realized she'd said it out loud. His voice softened to that tone that always struck her nervous system like a bell ringing. "Elizabeth, please," he begged. "Just hang on."
Something shifted and a crack echoed around her. Elizabeth ducked her head instinctively, but when the rest of the pile didn't come down, she looked up.
Light. She could see real light, a few inches above her head.
"Here!" She thrust her hand up, into the shaft of light.
Another hand appeared. Teyla's fingers closed around hers, squeezing tightly with reassuring warmth for a moment before withdrawing again. The scrabbling sounds on the rocks grew much louder, and over the sounds of the the shifting rubble, she heard other voices.
Come on, she thought, her hand gripping the brick outcropping so tightly her knuckles were white. Come on, come on. She was careful to keep her lips together so she didn't say it aloud.
Then she noticed a noise. A crackling sound, ominously close to her side. Something bright and orange flickered at the edge of her vision. The words slipped out without her control, "Oh my God."
***
John had never been so happy to see Rodney running with a pack of villagers behind him. He took one look at the room and John barely caught his broken, "Oh, no" before Rodney was clambering around Teyla's other side and helping toss rocks. The villagers quickly began to organize themselves to bring buckets. Some of the women ran out and came back a minute later with wet cloths. They started beating at the flames nearest to Ronon.
A tiny avalanche came free as Teyla moved something and then Elizabeth shouted. Teyla leaned forward, "I can see her hand."
She reached into the pile to touch Elizabeth for a moment. When she pulled back, her fingers were bloody. John told himself it was Teyla's blood, not Elizabeth's.
The water brigade arrived and began dumping buckets onto the flames. Almost there, John thought to himself. Just a few more minutes. They just needed a few more minutes.
As usual, they didn't get them. Elizabeth's voice came over the radio, "Oh my God."
"What is it?" he demanded.
"I can see the fire. It's right near my leg." The fear in her voice made his stomach turn over. "John...?"
In desperation, he threw himself forward, digging his feet into the rubble until they met resistance. Then he pushed, with every ounce of strength he could manage. He felt Ronon and Teyla's strength join his effort, and heard Rodney yell at the villagers, "Get back! Get back!"
Half the pile tumbled over, clattering and scattering flaming debris every which way. But Rodney and Teyla were digging and then Elizabeth's head and shoulders came free.
"Here! Water!" John yelled, pointing at where he could see the burning log and flames frighteningly close to Elizabeth. The man at the front of the bucket line ran forward and dumped water over Elizabeth's legs, putting out the flames. John let out a single breath in relief. At least that danger was gone.
John bent over and Elizabeth reached her arm around his shoulders. He didn't mean to hug her but he let himself stay still, wrapping his arms around her torso and pressing his hands against her body for a moment. Her fingers dug into his back and he could feel how she was shaking. But they needed to get her out of there. Teyla positioned herself near Elizabeth's head and they tried to pull her free.
Elizabeth cried out in pain, her legs still stuck, and they stopped, setting her back down. Rodney climbed around them, hunting through the rubble, much of which was still burning.
"There," he pointed. One of the beams from the ceiling was over Elizabeth's legs, and it was buried on one end under the new pile John had created in getting Elizabeth out into the open air. Rodney waved. "Ronon, get-"
The rest of the directions weren't necessary. Ronon moved the end of the beam, while a few of the other men scuttled to help him. John and Teyla got hold of Elizabeth again and Rodney grabbed a piece of unburned wood and wedged it as far as he could under the beam near Elizabeth's foot. Without any further preparation, Rodney said, "On three. One, two, three!"
With a lot of grunting and more falling debris, the beam lifted up off the ground a few inches and Elizabeth's legs were free. She sobbed again but John lifted her up and out, Teyla supporting her head. As soon as she was loose, Ronon and Rodney and the others let go and the beam crashed back to the floor.
John staggered, taking Elizabeth's weight on his damaged ribs while his footing was still unstable in the rubble. Rodney's arm went around John's waist and he steadied them all so they could get out onto the open grass away from the wrecked building.
John set Elizabeth down as carefully as he could manage. Teyla had run for her pack and was already rifling for the first aid kit. John collapsed onto the ground, groaning softly. He hadn't really felt how stiff and sore he was until right now.
He laid on his side. Rodney offered Elizabeth a sip of water. John could see blood matted in her hair. There was a scorch mark on her trousers, reminding him just how close she'd come.
But she was alive.
Rodney pillowed Elizabeth's head on his jacket and then looked up. A puddle jumper flew over them and John sighed in relief. Carson would be here soon and Elizabeth would be all right. He reached over and touched Elizabeth's hand carefully.
She turned and looked at him, her fingers flexing around his, but he pulled them free. There were tearstains on her face and he wiped the fresh tear away from her cheek with his thumb.
Her eyes closed and he let the backs of his fingers rest against her skin for a moment before there were more people bustling around them and he had to pull away.
***
She lost time like a gear slipping tracks. She remembered John and Rodney hovering over her, and Carson saying something, but then she was looking at the roof of the puddle jumper. The next thing she remembered was waking up in the infirmary briefly before she was pulled back under.
In her dreams, the fire surrounded her. Crackling maliciously, there was no way to escape from it, no matter which way she ran.
Elizabeth woke up wanting to scream, but her throat was dry and she started to cough terribly.
"Shh," someone was soothing her, and she recognized him long before her conscious mind could process who it had to be. She managed to stifle the coughing and lean back in the bed, and John offered her a cup of ice chips with a spoon sticking out of it.
Elizabeth fumbled with her left hand, trying to take the spoon, but she was too groggy to make it work.
Mercifully John didn't say anything, just took the spoon himself and fed her. The icy cold sensation was a relief to her parched throat and the memory of the dream.
"Carson says you're going to be okay," John told her. "No permanent damage. But you'll probably be in here for a few days so he can hover."
She smiled slightly. Now that her throat wasn't so dry, she managed to whisper, "Anyone else?"
He shrugged. "Ronon's black and blue, but you know how he is."
The medicine made it tough to focus, but she managed to look at him. "I strained some ribs," John admitted. "We all had smoke inhalation. Nothing major."
It could have been much worse, she knew. It almost was.
Tears welled up against her will. She hated crying in front of people.
"Hey, it's okay, Elizabeth. Everyone's okay."
She nodded, waving weakly at her traitorous eyes. "It's just the drugs," she said feebly, not looking at him.
John's voice dropped, low and soft, and that made her want to cry harder, as did the feeling of his hand brushing against her cheek. "You're safe, Elizabeth. You're safe."
She reached up and took his hand. "You got me out," she mumbled. The tiny emotional outburst had drained what little energy she had.
"Told you," John said, his lips lifting with a smile that didn't quite match the warmth in his eyes. His fingers squeezing hers gently was the last thing she registered before she fell asleep again.
***
Teyla hovered halfway across the infirmary. She could see that Elizabeth had woken up, and that she was talking to John, but even from across the room, it was obvious the conversation was private.
She watched John brush tears from Elizabeth's face. Teyla couldn't recall him ever making such an intimate gesture with anyone else, nor could she envision Elizabeth allowing it were she not in an infirmary bed and heavily sedated.
Or perhaps Elizabeth allowed it because it was John.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and Teyla saw that John was holding Elizabeth's uninjured hand in both of his. He was still in the infirmary scrubs, and Carson said it was nothing short of a miracle John had managed to move with two broken ribs and a concussion, much less help dig Elizabeth out of the rubble.
Watching John watch Elizabeth sleeping, Teyla thought it was much simpler than a miracle.
She turned away, leaving her friends to their privacy. She would come back in the morning.