Abandoned Ship
Summary: We are alone. Even when we are together.
A/N: A one-shot. Also, SPOILERS for Critical Mass.
He stares at me, just for a second, but I understand more from him then if we had been speaking on end for hours. Caldwell is a Gou'ald, it's not my first experience seeing one, but I must admit, if only to myself, I never really expected to see one in Atlantis. This is my home and to see something so evil, something I only ever related to Earth sitting in front of me, it scares me more then I would like to admit. I'm afraid more of a Gou'ald then the Wraith, I know it really should be the other way around, after all, the Gou'ald don't do anything as gruesome as sucking ones life out of their body through a hole in their hand, but every time I see eyes flash gold, I realize this could be me. I could be evil, infested by something that control's my body doing hideous things to friends. I could so easily be a host to something that really didn't have to be evil.
I look at a Gou'ald, even at the SGC and all I can think is that they're a lot more like humans then we care to admit. Aren't we at war with ourselves? So many of us have grown into adult hood with the ideal that not everyone is equal. There's always one person you can look down apon and just think you deserve it more. Our history isn't as pretty as we like to admit, it's tainted with greed, power and evil that rivals anything the Gou'ald are. How can we tell ourselves we are better then them? Are we not just as evil? These thoughts are what scare me. So many people have sacrificed themselves in the war against them, am I disrespecting their memory, by thinking the way I do? Is it me who am wrong?
I turn away from John, horrified at myself that I had just given him orders through the look we just shared, and that he had accepted them with without question. I know he supports me, I saw it in his eyes. I had only a few hours ago ordered another man, a pompous, but still innocent man to be tortured for information and it sickens me. My heart, which I have always hidden for professionalism in my negotiations, I fear has begun to turn to stone. How long must I go on like this? My façade is breaking, I just ordered now another man to suffer, how can we use the excuse it is to save our lives? How can we live knowing we have just doomed another? We are losing ourselves in this war and I fear that this will not be the last of the hard decisions I must make as this city sinks into the darkness. What would the Ancients think, if they watched us now, that we would sacrifice our own so easily? Would they be disgusted, or would they support us? How can we call ourselves ones with noble intentions? It is exactly what the inventors of the atom bomb declared before it was used to kill thousands of people in our conquest for power.
I walk from the room, the coldness of Caldwell's voice echoing through my mind as my eyes scan the control room, concerned faces staring at me, among the throng Cadman, the lieutenant who had discovered the true saboteur. She looks sickened, they all know what has transpired and what must be done to learn the truth. News of my order to have Kavanagh tortured has also spread through Atlantis and I know now that no-one will think I cannot do what needs to be done to keep this city from falling into enemy hands. Not that it makes it alright. This current rumor has alienated me more then ever, people don't catch my eye anymore, they slide away as if afraid they too would be subjected to torture should they catch my eyes. I try not to be bothered by it, but I fail and I know when night rolls around, I will work feverously in my office for most of the night if only to avoid the isolation of my room and the tears that will undoubtedly flow when I am alone.
My desk is a salvation, I think I would go quietly mad if I had nothing to do, but work doesn't seem to be able to catch my attention as it does usually and while digging through my draws, trying to find something to do other then stare at the people who now fear me, I find the pocket watch. It was an old gift from my father, but it meant more to me then any other of my possessions. Before he left on a mission to god knows where as part of his service to the army, he gave it to me and somehow I knew he wasn't going to come back from this. He loved the pocket watch more then anything, I was yelled at when I was a child and touched it, it was his and he carried it everywhere. I don't know the story behind it, I doubt I ever will, but when he gave it to me, he said a simple statement that has stayed with me through all my negotiations.
"See no evil. Hear no evil and Speak no evil my dear child." I locked it away when I didn't need it with me, it was a priceless possession in my eyes, but when I needed reminding of what I was fighting for, I always pulled it from it's casing. I suppose when my mother received the phone call telling her my father had died in battle, it was what turned me against the military, shaping my future.
But I had been wrong, and now I was here making decisions I never expected to make. I am alone, I have people like McKay, who although pretend to understand my thinking, could walk away from it at night and think how good it must feel not to be me. John Sheppard was the only one who ever really understood me. He is the typical flyboy, good looking with charm, but he was different to the others. He has demons in his past that I can relate with now. He made bad decisions and he paid the price dearly. I don't envy to be him, but I do admire his strength and courage. I'm not stuck-up to say I'm always right in my decisions, I know when he disobeys me, he truly thinks what he has to do is right for all of us. Can I have that courage? That determination for right? John is the only one who I can turn to and say my darkest fear and know he has one just like it. I see the black rings on his eyes from nightmares he has during the night. I know he sees under my make-up and façade to see mine.
He is the kind who will make the bad decisions if only to spare me the self-loathing he knows I will feel afterwards. But today he had to step aside and let me out from behind the wall and I admit, it frightens me. I'm hating myself and I know he is too, not only from the decisions he's made today, by himself, but the things he's done and let be. I know by looking at him he hates himself for letting me feel some of the pain he feels so often and although partly wishing he had made the decisions and I had simply been the one to go along with them, I know in my heart, it feels a little good to feel this way. I'm human and so is he. He watches me absently poke the chain of the pocket watch and I know he is trying to figure out what to say. Not to make me feel better, he knows that impossible, but to at-least tell me he understands. I sigh and then I think he realizes there is nothing he can say that will not go badly. I am alone. I made this decision and I have to live with it.
We are both alone, it is why I think we both turn to each other. No matter how badly our day goes, we will always be able to lean on the other for support. Our lives and the ones of our friends are in our hands, and it is a burden I would wish apon no one else.
I know one thing in this mess that is my life, no matter how bad things get, no matter how horrible the decisions are that we have made, no matter how many tears I cry when I'm alone, I have a bond with the one man I feel for deeper then allowed that will never break. We are alone, but we are together. And when we are together, nothing else matters.
Finis.