This is my first Stargate Atlantis fanfic. Even though it's not really a story, I thought I'd put it up here. I had an inspiration the night before and it wouldn't let me sleep until i had written it. So here it is. It's my first draft so it's not well written but I basically just wanted to get it out of my system. :)

I don't own Stargate or any of the characters.

Whack!

John fell to the floor of the east pier sparring room ungracefully and his body reminded him of the still unhealed bruises on his body.

"Perhaps we should wait a bit longer until you've fully recovered, Colonel," Teyla suggested. He caught her wince as he hoisted himself back to his feet.

"No, I'm fine," he assured. She nodded but furrowed her brow skeptically.

After raising her fighting sticks, John gripped his tightly. She blew towards him, turning and thrashing until she hit him in the back once more. Resisting the urge to cry out as the sores on his back stung from contact, he stepped away. "Okay, maybe you're right."

She smiled and lifted an eyebrow. "I tend to be."

John tossed the sticks to the side and grabbed a towel. After he had wrapped it around his neck and started to head out the door, she stopped him. "Colonel Sheppard, is everything alright?"

He lifted his head towards her as she was packing her gym bag. "I'm fine," he nodded. "Well, as fine as one could be after…that."

"I meant besides that," she clarified, slinging her bag over her shoulder and walking towards him. "You seem troubled over something."

He looked away and slapped on his poker face. "I'm just recovering. Don't worry, it'll go away."

She gave him a doubtful look before walking past him into the halls. He took a moment before doing the same.

It was worrying how perceptive she was to him. He needed to hide it better. But what had happened left him sleepless and distressed for nights on end.

[ONE WEEK AGO]

"Tell me where to find it," he demanded. This had been going on for so long; Sheppard had almost been able to tune him out.

Almost.

"I don't know," John groaned, shivering in pain as he lay face down on the cold stone floor, stripped down to only his boxers.

"Enough with the lies!" he shouted, and then spat. John flinched as he felt something land on the open sores on his back. He wanted to reach over to wipe it off but he knew it would only merit another kick or jab.

"Bring him back to his cell," he ordered and Sheppard rejoiced in his head. Never before did he think that that would bring so much happiness. But all he really wanted right now was to be free of the mongrel and take some time to rest.

He was dumped unceremoniously on the floor of the small cell and he landed on his bruised and wounded back. He let out a cry of pain and the guards laughed.

Only once he heard the door to his dark chamber shut did he allow himself to relax. Everything was beginning to look hazy and John was worried that soon he wouldn't be able to think straight.

He stared at the ceiling and wished for death. His team was safe – that much was enough to allow him to die in peace. They hadn't gotten what they came for. The ZPM hidden amidst the uncharted planet had gotten everyone's hopes up. But the citizens of this lovely planet weren't too keen on the travelers searching for a treasure that they would get to keep – much like the charming brotherhood they had met a little over four years ago. Then, convinced that the team had located it when McKay brilliantly exclaimed that he knew where it was, they were ambushed. The other three had successfully made it back to the gate but Sheppard had been knocked unconscious by one of the goons. And all he had to wake up to was the incessant questions of the head goon who demanded to know the location of the ZPM –or, treasure. Even though John had tried to explain that though Rodney had a theory of where it would be, Sheppard had been left in the dark. But, of course, like all good villains, he didn't believe him.

Sheppard closed his eyes as he tried to will death to come. The pain was escalating on a level that frightened him. Next time, he hoped to anger his torturer enough to finish the job, though the odds weren't likely. He didn't know how long he'd been in this place, but it felt like an eternity. He tried to keep his hopes up for rescue but that small shimmer of faith was slowly dissipating as the agony clouded his mind.

Don't give up just yet John.

At first, Sheppard thought he was talking to himself. But when he realized the voice was of a female, he opened his eyes to locate the source.

But there was no one outside his cell. The other lockups in the room were empty and the guards had been posted outside of the prison complex.

It's been awhile, John.

At a loss to where the voice could be emanating from, he turned his head to his other side.

A woman was standing on the other side of his cell, her arms crossed as she looked down at him. She was dressed rather casually – a lovey lilac color that brought out her eyes. And there was something else about her that seemed familiar. But he couldn't quite place it. Maybe he was too far gone but he thought he knew the woman from somewhere.

Then it struck him.

"Elizabeth," he murmured painfully.

That's right, John. It's me.

She hunched down and leaned towards him, smiling comfortingly. He closed his eyes. "I'm hallucinating," he whispered. As much as he craved to have her really be alive, as he had for quite some time, what was left of the logical part of him knew that it was too impossible.

No. I'm here.

"No," he moaned, noticing how his brain was fighting for control as it tried to be assured in the fact that she was back.

John, I'm here to help you.

"You can't help me," he said slowly, opening his eyes to the apparition. "You're dead – just like me."

You're not dead John.

"But you are," he raised an eyebrow, noticing her lack to deny that fact.

She cocked her head and looked past him thoughtfully. In a sense.

Sheppard rolled over on to his stomach and used his arms to push himself off the floor. He crawled over to the wall and slumped against it. Once he was upright, Elizabeth was still there, watching him with an unreadable expression on her face.

"I sent you to your death," he said. The ability to speak had become easier as he was sitting straight and he welcomed this distraction from the excruciating pain he was feeling elsewhere in his body. "Don't you remember?"

It was the right thing to do.

He snorted. That decision had haunted him since the day he committed it. It only made sense that his mind was trying to convince himself of that so near his death. And who better do that than Dr. Weir herself?

I know you don't believe me, John. But I really am here.

"How?" he demanded, angry at himself for conjuring up such a painful image in his last hours. It wasn't fair. Why manifest something that represented pain in his life when he was at will to imagine almost anyone else?

She smiled at him knowingly and he realized that she expected him to figure it out.

Almost instantly, he got it. Staring at her in disbelief, he uttered his conviction. "You're ascended."

That's right.

"So I'm not delusional?"

No.

Sheppard sighed and leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes. He didn't know why she was here, but the fact that she really was had a relieving effect on him. "So, come to see me in my final hour?"

No. I want to help you, John.

"You mean by breaking me out of here?" he asked, though his hopes were dimmed.

You know that I can't do that.

"If you really are Elizabeth…" he trailed off, knowing that it was unnecessary to finish that sentence.

I want to help you ascend.

John looked at her dubiously. He didn't know much about ascension but the very fact that you couldn't do anything to interfere in the lives of people you cared about, as Elizabeth was portraying, made it all seem rather distasteful to him.

"No thanks," he smiled and shook his head.

I thought for sure you would believe it was better than the alternative.

"I can't be of any use in the ascended world or dead," he told her. "But at least when I'm dead, I don't have to look on while people I care about are suffering and I can't do anything about it."

John, I –

"Can't help me, I got that."

She pressed her lips together and sat across from him.

He stared at her. "I've missed you."

She smiled slightly but didn't say anything. He knew she didn't have to. They both shared a kind of friendship that was unbreakable. He had led the expedition beside her for a better part of three years. She had put her faith in him and relied on him. Losing her had been one of the worst times in Atlantis. It hadn't been the same since she left. The leaders who tried to take her place – Colonel Carter, Mr. Woolsey – they couldn't replace what they shared.

But she was here. For how long he wasn't sure but he knew she would be there until he was safe again.