Atonement

Disclaimer: I'm almost 100 percent positive that I don't own anything affiliated with Stargate Atlantis...well, at least not in real life. Hey, a girl can dream, right?

Summary: When Elizabeth helps the team escape imprisonment from an alien civilization intent on making use of Sheppard's ancient gene, she must pay the price by serving in his place.

A/N: I actually got the idea for this fic from a movie entitled "China Cry," where a young woman is forced to work in a communist labor camp in place of her husband after she helps him escape the country. Reviews make me happy!

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends"

-- John 15:13

Elizabeth groaned as her stomach voiced its discomfort for the millionth time that night; she was far from being a big eater, but the amount of food they gave her here wouldn't even be enough to feed a mouse. She had been on M4X-825, otherwise known as Ontarik, for a grand total of four days; for three of those days she'd been a prisoner, held in a cell that was the size of her closet in Atlantis. Initially she'd been in a larger room, back when she'd first been incarcerated along with John and his team; but when everyone else had escaped, her captors had moved her. Never in a million years would Elizabeth have dreamed she'd find herself missing that first cell; but it had looked like a suite at the Ritz compared to the one she occupied now.

Wrapping the thin scrap of cloth she'd been given as a blanket around her shoulders, Elizabeth wondered, not for the first time, what the Ontarish intended to do with her. Tamesis, the prison guard, had told her she wouldn't like what came next. She had shot back that she wasn't particularly fond of her current situation and the large man had run his tongue over his teeth and smirked at her, telling her that she wouldn't be in this position if her team hadn't tried to escape. He'd ended by saying how her friends had only ended up getting themselves killed and her thrown into a tiny, dank cell. That had been something Tamesis had told her a few times: that John and his team were dead; probably hoping to get some sort of reaction out of her. Each time he was disappointed. Elizabeth wouldn't take the bait; she knew they were all still alive. She was a seasoned diplomat and the prison guard was a terrible liar. She figured the team's escape must have been successful too; otherwise she'd probably still be occupying the larger room and they would be right there beside her. That would certainly account for the livid looks the Ontarish Chancellor, Magus, had shot her when he'd been by to discuss something with Tamesis the other morning. Elizabeth had done her best to ignore the fury in his eyes, but she had a bad feeling that the good Chancellor wasn't one to let bygones be bygones; he wouldn't just let the incident slide. If he hadn't already figured it out, the knowledge of how she'd helped her team execute their escape would send him over the edge.

Elizabeth would be lying if she said she wasn't scared, but that fear had been tempered a great deal by the knowledge that the people she cared about were no longer in the same situation she was.

The Ontarish people's original cause for abducting the team was John's ability to activate Ancient technology. They would have forced him to operate the Ancient weapons platform located in their main city and to use the drones to wipe out what they called "Barbarian villages," scattered throughout the hills that dotted the planet. She, Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney had been collateral; if John refused to cooperate, their captors had made it very clear that they wouldn't hesitate to kill any one of them. All of them had been roughed up a bit, and for some reason she couldn't understand, John had been beaten to within an inch of his life. With Sheppard's head in her lap and a rag spotted with his blood in the other, Elizabeth had made the decision that she would get him out of that place no matter what the cost; and she had ended up paying for his…for the team's freedom with her own.

A harsh clatter snapped Elizabeth out of her thoughts and she bolted upright, all of her senses on the alert.

"Oh, I'm very sorry," It was Umi, the young girl who brought her the scraps of food they called meals around this place.

Elizabeth sighed in relief, "Umi, you scared me half to death."

The girl looked up at her, her big, brown eyes wide with a mixture of apprehension and surprise, "You know my name?"

Elizabeth nodded, "Of course I do."

Umi looked down at her bare, grimy feet, and pushed her dirty blonde hair behind her ears, "It's just, I…none of the other people they keep down here know my name. No one ever does."

Elizabeth's heart went out to the little girl, but before she had a chance to reply, Tamesis burst through the door. His eyes found hers and his mouth curved into something between a smirk and a snarl.

"Good to see you up and about Dr. Weir, I was afraid I was going to have to wake you."

Elizabeth resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "Well thank you so much for your concern."

Tamesis turned to Umi, "You, girl…go feed the other prisoners; Dr. Weir here doesn't need any breakfast today."

Elizabeth's mouth fell open, "Excuse me? Why not?"

The burly prison guard laughed, showing a broken set of yellowed teeth, "Magus' orders; besides, if you're feeling feisty enough to make a smart comment like that we must be feeding you too much."

Elizabeth silently cursed the propensity she had for picking up John's habits. This particular practice of making sarcastic comments at inopportune times was really starting to get her into trouble.

When Tamesis moved to open the door to her cell she frowned in confusion. "The Chancellor would like to meet with you." The guard smirked, noticing her bewilderment.

"Oh, well the pleasure's all mine," Drat, there was that overt sarcasm again. Elizabeth bit the inside of her cheek; she was really going to have to work on her self-control.

SGASGASGASGASGASGASGASGASGASGASGA

"Dr. Weir," Magus' aged face was devoid of emotion.

"Chancellor," Elizabeth drew herself up to her full height and clasped her hands in front of her, pretending she wasn't bruised, filthy and starving, "What can I do for you?"

"Since you are the only member of your team still with us, you will have to serve in Colonel Sheppard's place."

Elizabeth crossed her arms, "Unfortunately for you, I don't have the ancient gene; and even if I did, I wouldn't use it to destroy thousands of innocent people."

Magus didn't even bat an eyelash, "I am aware that you do not possess the gene Doctor; you will be assisting our workers in the fields. In this way you will be doing the Ontarish people a great service…since Sheppard is no longer here to aid us in the way we had wished."

"How long do you plan on keeping me here?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

Magus' demeanor changed in an instant, his eyes hardening and his voice lowering to a growl, "Until you take your last breath."

He exchanged a glance with Tamesis, "Take her to the Northwest sector and put her to work."

Elizabeth started to protest but the guard roughly grabbed her arm and hauled her out of the room.

She gave him an icy glare, "My people will come for me; you won't get away with this."

Tamesis barked out a cruel laugh, "We'll see."

SGASGASGASGASGASGASGASGASGA

It turned out that the "fields" Magus had mentioned were in fact vast expanses of jagged rock that the Ontarish were carrying out to use in assembling new buildings. It was the workers' job to cut the stone and haul it to the carts, which were then pulled by oxen to the outskirts of the main city.

By the end of the day, Elizabeth's hands were raw and torn, her knees bruised, and her Atlantis uniform was covered in a thick grey dust. She was exhausted, dehydrated, and weak with hunger. Tamesis personally escorted her back to her cell, tugging on her arm whenever she started to slow. Upon reaching her cell, she saw a bowl of water and a piece of bread sitting just inside the doorway.

Hearing her stomach growl in response, Tamesis chuckled as he moved to open the door, "Feeling a little hungry are we Dr. Weir?"

Tossing Elizabeth roughly onto her pallet, Tamesis made a point of stepping squarely on her dinner before locking her up for the night. She directed a withering glare at the guard's back, but didn't protest; she didn't want to waste what precious little energy she had left on what would prove to be a fruitless fight.

Delicately picking around the mashed portions of her evening meal, Elizabeth sighed wearily and winced as the movement of her fingers tugged at the broken skin of her palms, reopening her partially healed wounds. She quickly downed the water and settled up against the bars of her cell, resting her forehead against the cool metal. Her heartbeat was slow and even, a welcome change from the harsh pounding that had pulsed through her veins and filled her ears while she was doing work that a man twice her size would be hard-pressed to accomplish. She suspected her witty comebacks had earned her one of the more difficult assignments and she once again cursed John Sheppard's influence on her mannerisms. Elizabeth closed her eyes, a strange sense of peace washing over her. No matter what happened to her, at least he was no longer in this awful place…at least her family was safe; and that made it all worthwhile.