TITLE – Mirror
AUTHOR – Sache8
RATING – PG
GENRE – Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Episode tag
CHARACTER/ PAIRING – John Sheppard, Elizabeth Weir
SUMMARY – After the events of The Return, Pt. 1, Elizabeth visits John in his office.
DISCLAIMER – This fic is a mere inspiration of other people's combined genius.
Mirror
by Sache8
Memories worked in parallels. John Sheppard looked around the SGC's gate room. It was so drab compared to its grand counterpart in Atlantis. To take a single step between galaxies was an impressive thing, but today his heart just wasn't quite in the mood to be impressed. Instead, he was reflecting with a bittersweet pang on the last time he'd traveled from Pegasus to the Milky Way. Sure, he'd been in a puddle jumper instead of on foot, and sure, he'd been the first person in history to travel via the shiny new intergalactic gate bridge, but the end result had been the same. He'd ended up here.
In that case, though, he'd been excited. In that case, he'd been proud. In that case, he hadn't left part of his heart behind.
Sighing softly, John forced his thoughts back to the present. The gate room was crowded, the rest of the Atlantis expeditioneers still milling about, greeting friends at the SGC or beginning to make the first of many goodbyes. The buzz of conversation that filled the room was to be expected, but it was subdued. The air did not crackle with the energy John remembered from the first day of this expedition.
"Colonel Sheppard?" came General Landry's inquiry over the intercom. John had already spied the older man through the window of the control room beyond. "How many more are left to come?" the General asked.
"Just Doctor Weir," John called over the hubbub. He looked over his shoulder, curious as to why she hadn't been right behind him, Rodney, and Carson. Another couple of moments passed before she stepped through the gate, the last of the earthlings to return home.
Sometimes memories worked like mirrors too. Everything looked kind of the same, but it was backwards. Once upon a time, Elizabeth had been the first to leave through that gate. Now she was the last to return. Then, she'd been happy, full of life. Now, her heartache was palpable. Then, they'd all been heading off for who could only say what. Now, they returned from what they knew all too well.
Behind Elizabeth, the wormhole died and she caught John's gaze. There was a dullness in her eyes that John knew matched his own. She swallowed, then looked away. Even as he watched, she pulled a brave mask over her face, turning to greet General Landry's welcome with a politic reply.
In the days that followed, John grateful for the military part of his life. Go here, say this, debrief that. It was several days before all the mission reports were written, all the conferences were held, and all files closed up tight in the big classified folder in the sky. It felt good to be shuffled for a while – he wasn't quite ready to deal with regular life again.
He was surprised how relieved he felt when General Landry had offered him command of an SG team. It wouldn't be the same, he knew, but it was the closest thing that Earth had to offer. And he would be right here, ready to go if those hoity-toity Ancients ever got over their confounded self pity-party and changed their condescending minds. He was careful to keep all touch of regretful longing out of his eyes and voice when he accepted, emphasizing only his gratitude.
Rodney left for Nevada, grumbling all the way. Carson was getting comfortable amongst the SGC's medical staff. John's new team had already gone on three standard stargate missions – two exploratory, one recon – before Elizabeth was finally finished with the IOA.
He was writing a mission report on the recent scout of P77-XG3 when she knocked tentatively on the door to his office. The fact that he had one was kind of weird. He'd never pictured himself an officey kind of guy. He looked up, "Hey!" he said with a smile. She was dressed in one of those stuffy suits that he always found it very bizarre to see her wear. The fact that she was coming to visit him in his office was pretty amusing.
"Hey yourself," she replied, returning the smile tentatively. She looked around with interest. "Nice little niche you've got for yourself here," she observed. Cocking her head meaningfully at the dart board nearby, she added, "All the amenities, I see."
"Well, you know. The goal posts wouldn't fit." This earned him another – albeit small – smile, as well as that shake of her head she made whenever he was any degree of incorrigible. Pleased, he went on, "What brings you by?"
"Actually—" she began hesitantly, "Goodbye. I've just finished up my last meeting – thank goodness – and now I get to leave."
"Where will you go?" It seemed the obvious question.
"Truthfully? I— I don't know."
John frowned. He'd known she'd been fretting a bit over her future prospects, but he'd marked it up as nothing more than the severe disappointment they'd all been suffering. Now she was wringing her hands they way she did when she was deeply worried about something.
"Don't you have a house in Washington?" he asked, studying her body language further. She was agitated. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it the moment she'd come into the room.
"I did," she said, "but it wasn't strictly mine. The lease has long since expired and, even if it hadn't I won't ever live there again. Too many confusing memories."
This last statement puzzled him. "Elizabeth, is everything okay?" he finally asked. He sensed she'd come here to talk about something, something more than a mere goodbye.
She had been pacing the space before his desk, but now she stopped. Putting her fingertips against her forehead she gave a small laugh. "You know, I allowed the meetings to go on these past few weeks a lot longer than they needed to. I probably could have been out of here eight days ago."
"So why aren't you?"
She sighed. "You're going to think I'm stupid."
"No, no," he said, getting up from his chair to go stand in front of her. "I promise I won't laugh. What's bothering you, Elizabeth?"
She sighed. "The truth is—" she began. She paused, as if searching for the right words or trying to find the gumption to say the ones that were already there. "The truth is I'm kind of afraid to leave. I'm afraid to set foot anywhere near my old kind of work. Not because I don't still find it worthwhile, but because of—"
"The nanovirus," John finished, realization suddenly hitting him like a baseball bat. "That's what the replicators wanted you to believe, that you were back on Earth and picking up where you left off."
"John, I can't even begin to describe how real it felt!" she burst out. She resumed pacing for a couple of moments, then finally settled for leaning against his desk with her arms folded. "There was a span of time there where I completely swallowed their lies. If it hadn't been for you all—"
"But that's all over now. You fought them off. We all helped, remember?"
"I remember, but… what if—?" Her voice broke slightly and she sucked in a harsh breath. "What if it's happening again, John? What if you're not real? The Tria, the Ancients, what if it's all another lie, this time stronger, and— and more cunning, and if I resisted hard enough, I'd wake up in Atlantis one more time?"
John felt like the world's biggest idiot. It seemed Elizabeth had been dealing with a mirror memory of her own, one far more terrifying and potent than any of his self-centered reflections. He'd perceived almost from the first moment that she had taken the evacuation of Atlantis harder than anyone else but he should have realized she would have been dealing with this fear on top of her grief. He felt the urge to kick himself in the pants.
Ignoring it, he took up a position beside her at the desk. "You know that's not true," he said finally.
She exhaled softly. "How can you be sure?"
"Well, for starters, I think the reason those nanites put you on Earth to begin with, surrounded by strangers, was because you'd buy it better. You said General O'Neill didn't seem himself when the nanites were trying to imitate him. Do you really think they're so smart they could imitate Rodney convincingly for three straight weeks? Or me?" he added, and couldn't help but include a playful smirk.
It worked. She gave a soft laugh and did the head-shake again. "Good point."
"I think deep down you've known along that this is real," he said softly, "but if it had occurred to me there might be a chance it's all just a bad, bad dream… hey, I'd probably dwell on it too."
"What, you're suggesting that on some subconscious level, I hoped I was fighting a nanovirus again?"
John winced. "Well, I guess it doesn't sound so great when you put it like that."
"No, no it doesn't," she said. "I think I might be a small bit paranoid about 'reality' for my whole life now," she added wryly. "But you're right. I did want to wake up from the bad dream." After one moment of wistful silence, she pursed her lips and said, "Now I guess it's time to do a bit of the traditional waking up and facing of reality."
"Good luck with that," John replied, chuckling.
She studied thoughtfully for a moment. "Thank you, John," she said. "For this and… for everything."
"You're welcome. I know I'll probably be seeing you now and again, but… I'll really miss you, Elizabeth. I'll miss … us. All of us. And home."
"I know what you mean," she said softly, a quiet acknowledgement of the sentiment he couldn't quite articulate. She reached over and pulled him into an embrace, as she'd done once before. He wasn't quite as surprised this time.
He held her several moments longer than he'd intended, clinging reluctantly to his last and most meaningful goodbye. Saying farewell to Elizabeth felt like saying farewell to Atlantis all over again. The three of them had learned so much from each other. And yet despite the bittersweetness of the moment, it was also heartening. The same bonds that made goodbye so painful also ensured that it wouldn't be forever.
As Teyla had said, their paths would cross again. He'd believed it then, and he believed it even more strongly now. Bonds like this – bonds of family - forged a connection even more impressive than mere wormholes that connected galaxies.
A/N: 'Expeditioneers' and 'officey' are not real words, I know. But I was writing John. It seemed to work.
Feedback is love!
-- Saché