Title: Threads
Author: Trialia
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Introspective, Missing Scene
Rating: G
Summary: Beginning and end connected. Elizabeth vignette, Before I Sleep cut-in.
She's never been so confused, but she knows she's not alone anymore.
Elizabeth isn't sure anything they'll find on their travels throughout the Pegasus galaxy could feel stranger for her than what she's just experienced-- the confusion of staring into her own face without benefit of a mirror is like nothing she'd ever imagined. Nothing on Earth, she'd once have said, but they're not on Earth.
Never more obvious than at this minute.
She'd never thought she could love herself, but she's feeling a certain fondness for the woman before her.
Elizabeth notices how beautiful she was at thirty-five, with a tinge of sadness, knowing what's before her now and what would have been before her parallel self, but knowing how she'll feel as time goes by, slightly envying her younger self the time she now has. As that crosses her mind, she smiles, knowing that staying in an abandoned city for ten thousand years alone... well, it was worth it.
Weir looks into the face of herself at age ten-thousand-and-thirty-five, and all her negative thoughts about her birthday leave her. How she managed to survive so long... what she's managed to do... she could never have believed it of herself if she weren't hearing it now. She can't stop smiling with the shock and surreal excitement of this peculiar meeting, but the older Elizabeth just returns the smile.
They know their thoughts are shared, and each of them knows the personality of the other. No diplomacy could have taught her more about knowing herself at this moment in time.
"I'm just saying stop being so damn hard on yourself. Life is quick."
They both know she's speaking the truth-- Weir meets Elizabeth's eyes.
"Not for you."
I'm sorry. Green and once-green collide.
Don't be. Soft, quiet, fading.
"It was my choice, Elizabeth. I didn't second-guess it then, and I don't regret it now." Her voice, wearied with age, is still filled with conviction and certainty, and Elizabeth Weir looks into her own face and understands what she's saying without needing the words that go with it.
It's time she moves on.
Trust yourself.
fin