2006 Stargate Fan Award Nominee
A/n: this is my first Stargate: Atlantis fanfic so please go easy on me. Thanks and I hope you enjoy this one-shot. Don't really know what kind of spoilers there are, but it's after they encountered the Genii and the whole negotiation during the storm. Kinda shippy between John and Elizabeth. Enjoy!


Elizabeth Weir lay on a medical cot, unconscious, and hooked up to several IV's. She had contracted a virus from one of the Genii that held her captive during the storm, and since she wasn't inoculated with contagions of this galaxy, along with the cold she developed after being in the rain for so long, she had fallen ill.

It wasn't severe until a couple of days ago, and since then, she had been lying there. Dr. Carson Beckett tried everything he could to keep her comfortable while letting the virus run its course, and she had daily, even hourly visitors, especially John Sheppard.

It was one of those days when there wasn't much going on anywhere, which was rare, so John took the liberty of visiting Elizabeth more frequently, without trying to look too suspicious.

It was noon, and John was on his way to visit Elizabeth, again, but as he passed by her office, he noticed there was a paper on the floor. He knew how a neat freak she was and decided to pick it up and place it onto her desk. In the process, he saw the title of the paper: Death. He was intrigued and despite the voices in his head telling him to mind his own business, he couldn't help but keep reading.

Death. Death is not awful even though it is perceived that way. No matter what your religion, no matter what your belief of an afterlife or just the end, death is just what it is. It doesn't have favoritism; we give death its meaning according to our experiences with it and popular concept. But death, like any other extreme such as love, hate, and life, is what we make of it. To me, death is a release from a life that has many possibilities as well as its strife. Death, in all actually, is just another part of life. I always questioned if and when I should die, if my memories and consciousness would transcend with me onto the 'afterlife,' or does it just start over? These questions of mine have never truly been discussed, because every time I start a discussion about death, people just look at me like I'm suicidal and morbid, and should get help, but I'm just curious. And that leads me to more questions: why is everyone so afraid of death? Why is death such a bad thing? I tried logic, which is always a good way to go. In one way, I realized that we aren't so much afraid of death, but the uncertainty of what death might mean. It could be painful and tragic, or it could be peaceful slumber. Death could come in so many forms and fashions that the unknown is what we fear. And I understand why people would view death as an antagonistic creature, because it is a means to an end for friendship, love, and all the potential happiness yet achieved, and all the regrets that couldn't be dealt with. It is indeed very sad for those the departed left behind, but there is always a chance they are living a better life and waiting for you to come along as well. During my search for the truth and opinions on death, I discovered death could also mean reintegration into nature. I believe that that is what may happen in death; we part with our previous existence, and hope for the best in the next. And even if your religion requires that you go through judgment or to reincarnate to improve oneself or whatever the case may be, death may bring you back to the grand scheme of nature. The atoms that once made you as a whole being may be freed to blow in the breeze and swim through the waters; the freest one could ever hope to be. As I tried to find the answers to my never-ending questions, I realize that death cannot be completely understood with words. It is the uncertainty that makes death so fascinating and frightening at the same time. So I guess I won't know what death is until it comes for me. Until then, I try convincing people that it won't be too bad. After all, it is life that we live and die. One cannot die without having lived, even if it is for a millisecond…

John gasped; he never realized she was such a great writer and a philosopher as well. True to Weir's character that she would accept death, but fight with every fiber of her being while alive. And then it struck him that he didn't need to worry about her anymore than she did about herself. She knew the dangers of coming to Atlantis and faced it, and encouraged it, because she knew that it would help and save many other lives.

After John replaced the paper on her desk, he made a mental note to talk to her about it once she woke up. And he knew she would, because she never gives up.


a/n: i actually wrote this for my english class, not for a grade, but i hope it gets my point across while incorprating one of my favorite things, stargate. thanks for reading and review please...thanks!