Chapter One:

Elizabeth, wait!

You can't!

I have to and you know it

John…

…Go

John runs to the Jumper Bay like a man possessed: He's glad he's running because when you're running you can't think and there's no time to think.

He's glad there was no time to think because if he stopped – even for a second – and thinks about what act he's about to commit he knew he'd break down and do what every fibre of his being is screaming at him and return to the control room.

But he has to do this; he has to do it for Atlantis and for everyone who belongs there.

I always knew I'd die in war. The thought vibrates in his mind as he sprints into the Jumper and throws himself down at the controls. He always knew he'd die in war. And this isn't a bad way to go after all; better him than one of the so many, better, more valuable people down there.

But he's so, so scared. Not so much of dying – though thought that's enough to send a sliver of ice through his heart, but for the people he's leaving behind.

Would the Wraith murder them all? Would Atlantis be destroyed? Would they ever see Earth again? If he had one final wish, just one, it would be that the people he's sacrificing himself for will get to see their home planet again. He will die content if he knew his death had meant that.

But he can't be content, because he knows that someone else is going to have to do exactly what he's doing and that's hard to bear: that this may not make any difference at all. Scrap that last final wish – here was another one: That this would be the last sacrifice any member of the expedition had to make. His life would be the last one lost.

How would his death affect them? He isn't stupid; he knows he isn't a unique, irreplaceable member of the team. Not like Rodney's brain or Carson's medical skills or Elizabeth's leadership.

But how would they take it? He doesn't want them to mourn and he doesn't want them to grieve and most of all he doesn't want them to blame themselves.

John suddenly realises he isn't thinking about "them". He's thinking about her. Because, when this was all over – if it ever ended and if she was there to see it,

No, not if, when. Because she has to be there to see it, he can't consider it ending any other way.

When the sound of gunshots and screaming fade and the sun rises on an Atlantis that is once again a peaceful haven, floating on the water: She will grieve, she will mourn and she will blame herself. Because that's what Elizabeth does. She alone will carry the burden of his death.

John thinks back to the look in her clear eyes that he saw barely a minute ago. Guilt, pain and regret. In that instant he knows what his true final wish would be; that Elizabeth Weir would live to see the sunrise on a harmonious Atlantis again and that she would see it with a free heart and peace of mind.

He pilots the Jumper up out of the bay, cloaking it as he rose up away from the planet and he glances back one final time. Back at the place that's been his home for the last year.

Home. That's a strange way of putting it. All this time he's seen it merely as resting place, a temporary stop gap until they returned to Earth. Now though, he realises that the city a thousand of feet below him is his home and all its inhabitants his people.

He swallows and opens up a communication channel. Time to say your goodbyes John.

"You do realise, if this works, someone may have to do it again." You idiot! You're about to go off to your death and that's all you can come up with?

Elizabeth's voice comes over the radio. "Understood." Her voice doesn't break or waver, but even from that distance John could feel her pain.

He desperately tries to think of something to say, something to comfort her, convince her this isn't her fault, give her some last words of courage...

...or he can tell her the truth. The secret.

"Elizabeth, I just want you to know, I… "He opens his mouth to say the words, but he can't. She has enough to deal with. There isn't time, this isn't the place and it will only make things worse.

"I'm sorry."

So he continues towards the hive ship, his heart aching not for what was ahead, but for the woman he's leaving behind.