Summary: John is unknowingly given a drug that provokes an implacable fury in him, and he takes Elizabeth hostage, not only threatening her life but ultimately jeopardizing the safety of Atlantis.
Metamorphosis
"Is that cold enough for you?" John's voice was a low hiss in her ear. Elizabeth swallowed reflexively, transfixed by the sight of a mile-long drop below her. A sharp breeze tugged at her clothes and her hair, making her shudder as she teetered over the edge of the balcony.
"John…please." Elizabeth's words scratched painfully against her throat, seeming weak and pitiful, even to her own ears.
John let out a noise that was somewhere between a snarl and a laugh. "We're alone. I disabled the city-wide LSD – nobody is going to come for us." He pressed against her back, and she let out a whimper as they swayed, coming so close to toppling over into the unforgiving sea. "Should I? It would only take a nudge…we'd both fall."
"No…" She shuddered, trying not to imagine what would happen if they fell. "Please, John. Don't do this."
"Don't do this," John mimicked, then laughed, a brutal sound that filled her with fear. "The same thing you said to Kolya when he was going to let a Wraith suck the life out of me. You used your pretty words, and watched as he did it anyway."
"No – that's not how it was." Elizabeth turned her face away from the sea, going quiet as John pushed the gun he'd taken from the dead marine harder into her side.
"That's exactly how it was," he said, bitterness and hate lacing his voice. "And how it always will be. Unless I end it now."
Elizabeth closed her eyes as the pressure between them increased – he pushed forward, while she leaned back, away from the buffeting winds and crashing waves that waited down below. Her breathing grew quicker, turning into sharp gasps as they wavered over the balcony edge. The iron-gray waters seemed to draw closer, the punishing wind luring them in –
And suddenly John grabbed her, yanking her away from the edge. She collapsed at his feet, relief making her body shake even harder than it had before.
For a moment the Colonel watched her impassively, disgust making his lips twist into a sneer. "Don't thank me yet, Lizzy. The only reason either of us is still alive is because our friends have found us – and I can't allow that."
Looking up, Elizabeth stared hopefully to the balcony's doorway, scanning the glass for someone, anyone, that could help her. John grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet before she could see anything, though, and they started to run again.
His hold on her was of iron strength; he ran at a pace that she could barely match. Elizabeth stumbled blindly along as he lead her through the long-abandoned sections of Atlantis, feeling as if her lungs were about to rend from so much use. They'd been doing this for what seemed to be an eternity; yet she knew it couldn't have been for more than a few hours.
How had this happened? When had her loyal second in command, her trusted friend, become this deranged, hate-filled killer?
He'd been fine this morning. She could remember slipping him one last smile just before he and his team had gone through the Stargate, and him giving her a cocky wink in return. Could remember him coming back at the designated time, a little short-tempered, but Rodney's incessant sarcasm could do that to anyone.
What had gone wrong?
Flashback
"How did it go, Colonel?"
Jogging up the stairs leading to the control room, Sheppard looked up and flashed his boss a grin. "Oh, you know, just the average meet-your-locals kind of thing. The Plintans were real friendly. Threw us a feast and everything."
"And let's not forget all the pretty girls to flirt with," Rodney added, disdain dripping off his voice as he shot the Colonel a look.
Teyla and Ronon exchanged smiles as Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "So, I assume you enjoyed yourself."
"I've never seen Kirk over here happier," Rodney muttered.
John gave him a look. "You weren't exactly complaining either, McKay."
"Well," Elizabeth interrupted, before their banter could grow into a full-blown snark war, "It's good to hear that you had a normal mission, for once. I'll see you in the debriefing."
John nodded, and she turned away. She heard Rodney say something, but didn't catch it; she did hear what John said in return, though.
"You fuckin' son of a bitch, why don't you mind your own business?"
Shocked, Elizabeth spun around, just in time to catch the stunned look on Rodney's face, as well as those of his teammates.
John seemed just as stricken. "Rodney, I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that…"
Rodney's shaken look had been replaced by one of anger and hurt. Before he could say anything that would only aggravate the situation further, Elizabeth stepped in.
"You're all tired, and just came home from a mission, which is taxing no matter how peaceful the natives are. Get checked up by Carson," she said, flashing a glance at John. "All of you."
John nodded, still looking stunned and contrite, and headed submissively to the infirmary, flanked by Ronon and Rodney. Teyla met Elizabeth's gaze, her eyes troubled; but the leader still dismissed the incident as the product of stress, induced by a tiring mission and Rodney's constant flow of derision. Goodness knew, she thought with a small smile, that man certainly did wear down on one's patience.
So she pushed away the uneasy feeling that beset her, heading back to her office to prepare for the debrief.
-----
They reached an unused lab, filled with desks and machines covered with white sheets and dust. John stopped running abruptly, throwing her carelessly to the ground and crouching down behind one of the sheet-draped desks. He aimed his 9 mil over the desk; too late, Elizabeth realized what he was going to do, and yelled – but three shots rang out, their echo muted swiftly by the oppressive room.
Standing up, Elizabeth saw with horror that two marines, two of her people, lay bleeding on the floor. For a moment, she remembered Lt. Marl, lying motionless on the ground; she shook the image away quickly. Moving to check if they were still alive, she was halted by a sudden, heavy blow to her face, knocking her down.
"Bad Elizabeth," John said, his tone mocking. "I never said you could stand, much less try to get me killed by alerting the enemy of our position."
"Those are our men," Elizabeth said through the blood in her mouth. "Our people. You just – killed them." Just like Lt. Marl, she thought.
John walked over to the soldiers, dropping his 9 mil in favor of a P90. "They're alive, Liz. But I wish you'd drop the act; it's not as if you care whether they live or die."
"I do care, John," Elizabeth said. "I care about every person on Atlantis. Including you."
In a flash, John had her pinned to the floor, a knife at her throat. "You don't. Admit that you don't."
"No," Elizabeth said, her eyes twin blazes of defiance.
"Say it!" he snarled.
"No!"
With a roar, John struck the side of her head, making the world do cartwheels around her. He jumped up and paced around the room, and she slowly picked herself off the floor, dimly noting the blood that was trickling down the side of her face.
"We're leaving. Come on," he said, his voice colder than the ocean wind.
She didn't move. He looked mildly annoyed to find that she was not following him, but she still stood her ground stubbornly. When he started walking towards her, though, she lost her nerve and silently followed him. It wasn't the unspoken threat of getting hit again that made her obey, but the look in his eyes; vicious, inhuman, telling her that he could and would do something much worse than strike her.
She followed him, trying to ignore the ache of her muscles and pounding of her head. Whenever she began to slow down, he took her by the forearm and pushed her roughly forward again, making her stumble and adding another bruise to her growing collection. Several times, a trio of soldiers would appear, and she watched helplessly as John shot them all.
That's when Ronon and Teyla showed up.
Flashback
A knock at her door made Elizabeth glance up and smile. "Oh, hello, Carson."
"Good afternoon, lass," Carson replied, returning the smile. "I gave Colonel Sheppard and his team a normal check-up, and nothing seems to be amiss. I've taken blood samples just in case, but it'll be a while before the results come in."
"That's good," Elizabeth said. "So what John said to Rodney then, it was out of…?"
"Stress. Fatigue. Loss of temper. He apologized to Rodney during the physical several times, so I don't think any permanent harm has been done," Carson said.
Elizabeth nodded, trying to feel reassured but not able to completely push away the gnawing feeling that something was wrong. "Thank you, Carson."
"Of course, Elizabeth. I'll see you in the evening for your monthly physical, correct?"
She winced. "This evening? Hmm, I may pull a John Sheppard then."
Carson raised his eyebrows. "A…John Sheppard?"
"Yes. I'll mysteriously disappear and nobody will be able to find me for hours," she said, smiling to show him she was joking.
"Funny, lass," Carson said, his voice mock-stern. "You'll show up for that physical or I'll find the biggest, sharpest needle in my collection and use it on you."
Elizabeth laughed. "Alright, I won't disappear. You really know how to make a girl feel afraid, Carson."
The doctor just chuckled. "I'll see you later, love."
-----
John clamped his hand over Elizabeth's mouth before she could call out, hiding in the shadows as they watched Ronon and Teyla on the level below them. He raised his gun and she struggled, knowing what he was going to do; in response he punched her hard in the stomach, dropped her, and unleashed a spray of bullets on his teammates.
Winded and on the ground, Elizabeth heard Teyla's shout of pain and Ronon's angry snarl. John grabbed her by the arm and began dragging her away; glancing back, she barely had enough time to see Ronon kneeling on the floor besides a wounded Teyla.
They ran for another thirty minutes, finally stopping a good distance away from where Teyla had been shot. "Why did you do that?" Elizabeth demanded, as soon as she had her breath back. "You shot your own teammates!"
John ignored her. "Ronon will be coming after us," he said, calmly checking his vest pockets for ammunition. "He'll be angry. It will make him bolder, but not careless." He glanced around, his eyes scanning the darkness quickly, and began walking again. "Come on."
"Where are we going?" Elizabeth asked, not moving an inch.
This time, when John stalked towards her, she held her ground, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "Where we're going does not concern you. When we'll get there also does not concern you." He moved closer to her, touching her throat so lightly it was almost a caress. "What should concern you is that if you don't do what I say when I say it, then I won't kill you – right away. First you'll suffer, long and slow." His hand moved down from her throat, traveling across her chest and to her stomach, coming to a rest at her hips. She barely breathed, trying not to tremble as he brought out a knife and drew it, very gently, against the skin of her lower torso.
"Don't think that I won't hurt you, Lizzy," he whispered, his mouth by her ear, "just because you're weaponless. Just because you're a woman. Just because there used to be something between us. Because I will."
Looking into his eyes, Elizabeth trembled because she believed him. He would kill her, and do worse before that.
This was not the John Sheppard she used to know. That John Sheppard was gone, and in his place was a ruthless killer.
This time, when he gestured for her to start walking, she did.
-----
Six marines were guarding the front entrance to the Jumperbay, each armed with a Wraith stunner. Five more stood protectively at the back entryway. Elizabeth watched John's face as he checked each of the entrances, only to find them all protected just as heavily. She sighed in relief, thanking her lucky stars that Major Lorne had the foresight to know that John would head for the Jumperbay, and thinking that there was no way Sheppard would try to take on six or five marines.
"What are you going to do now?" Elizabeth asked when they'd gone a short distance away from the 'bay.
John looked at her, his eyes empty of emotion. "Scream," he said.
She frowned in confusion, unconsciously taking a small step backwards. "What?"
He moved to her swiftly, pulling in her in, so her back was against his chest and his knife was at her throat. "Scream," he whispered softly in her ear.
Elizabeth understood now, and the realization sent her heart thumping like the hooves of wild horses galloping across the earth. Swallowing with fear from what was to come, she whispered back, "No."
Her answer elicited a small sigh from John, but the mild reaction did nothing to reassure her. "Don't be difficult, Elizabeth. Scream now, or I'll be forced to do something to – inspire – one from you."
Still, she was silent.
"Okay then, I guess we're going to do this the hard way."
Elizabeth closed her eyes, bracing herself for the sharp stab of pain; it didn't come. Instead, she felt the cold of the dagger against her right forearm – and bit her lip as it pressed gradually into her skin, then slicing downward, sending a cascade of scarlet droplets down her arm. It moved at a leisurely pace, agonizingly slow, making Elizabeth want to do more than scream. She twisted in John's grasp, but his arm held her firmly.
"You can make it end, Elizabeth," John murmured. "Just scream." He punctuated his words by spiraling the dagger around, drawing a tight circle in her flesh.
She gave in. Her scream was short, but as he had so casually put it, it was 'inspired'.
The result was quick. John pulled her into another hallway as three soldiers left their posts at the Jumperbay's back entrance, seeking out the place where she had cried out.
That left only two marines at the entrance. Not enough.
John took them out with the same cold efficiency she'd seen him use on his teammates. Elizabeth hurried to check if they were alive, moving before he could stop her. Fortunately she was able to catch a pulse in each, just before John took her arm and pulled her into the 'bay.
Neither she nor he expected what happened next.
Shots rang out, directed by marines hidden behind jumpers and cargo boxes. John snarled as a bullet missed his leg by millimeters and quickly returned fire, forcing the soldiers back down. He grabbed Elizabeth and swiftly dragged her back out. They ran.
The marines tried to chase after them, but John was faster. He pushed her through a long twisting route, turning corners in rapid succession so that they lost the marines. Still, he forced her to keep running.
Finally, after thirty minutes or so of this, she couldn't take it anymore. Exhausted, Elizabeth sank down against a pillar, trying to regain her breath.
"I never said you could rest," John said, his P90 aimed dangerously close to her head.
Elizabeth looked up into the muzzle of the gun. A sudden memory hit her, and she remembered when he had first pointed it at her –
Flashback
Scratching down a few last notes in the remainder of her paperwork, Elizabeth glanced at her watch. 2:00. Good; the debriefing started in thirty minutes, so she was right on schedule.
Putting the papers away, she stood up, turning her back to the door as she rearranged some of the objects on her desk that Rodney had been playing with (that man really did not know how to keep his hands still). When she turned around, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
"John!" she said. "You startled me."
Sheppard, standing not a foot away from her, didn't respond. Frowning, Elizabeth noted that he was still wearing his gear; his vest was still on, although his P90 was gone.
"Is…there something I can do for you, Colonel?" Elizabeth questioned.
"Yes, actually," John replied, and her frown deepened at the tone of his voice. It was…different, in a way she couldn't place, different than anything she'd ever heard from him. "Walk out the door and to the nearest transporter. Don't call out to anyone. Act as if everything is normal. I'll be following you. If you try anything, I'll shoot you along with anybody who's nearby."
"John, you can't be serious – "
"Do it, Elizabeth."
She stared at him, disbelieving. And then she realized it. His voice. It was different because while it wasn't neutral, or uncaring, or even cold, but because it was filled with hate. Hate directed at her. And she, too shocked and disturbed by the change, couldn't move.
"Elizabeth." John's breath was warm against her face, a stark contrast to the chill in his eyes. "Now."
Slowly, not taking her eyes off him, Elizabeth moved towards the door and walked out into the hallway. People passed by them, rushing off to their work, a few pausing to give their leaders a nod. Nobody seemed to realize that something was wrong, though, and John jerked his head towards the nearest transporter. She walked to it, taking as much time as she dared, head whirling as she tried to figure out a way to warn someone to what was going on.
They reached the transporter. Once inside, John hit a section of the panel that took them to one of Atlantis's uninhabited areas. The transporter doors opened, but Elizabeth didn't move.
"John, what are you doing? Where are we going?" she said.
"Don't speak," John snarled, hate and fury heavy in his voice and face. "Just move."
She refused, and that's when he took out the gun, leveling it at her head.
"You won't shoot me," Elizabeth said, meeting his eyes steadily.
At first he didn't respond, and their eyes remained locked together for what seemed to be an eternity.
That's when Lt. Marl turned the corner, walking straight into them.
Startled, the lieutenant raised his gun immediately, aiming it at John –
"No!" Elizabeth cried as John fired a single bullet. She ran to Lt. Marl, but knew it was too late even before she reached him. The bullet had gone right through his head. Horrified and stunned, she sank down to her knees, staring at the marine's blank, sightless eyes, barely noticing as John sauntered over to her.
Standing over her, he said, "I shot him. Guess what? You're next if you don't get up."
Elizabeth got up, noticing that her hands were shaking and trying to stop them without success. He saw this, the gun still pointed at her, and smiled.
-----
"I never said you could rest."
Wearily, Elizabeth looked up at him and the gun. "You know what? I don't give a damn."
That was what she wanted to say. But a fresh trickle of blood, running down her cheek from where John had struck her on the side of her head, kept her quiet. Instead, she just stood up tiredly.
"Better," he drawled. "Now you're getting the hang of it."
Elizabeth clenched her fists at his tone, anger coursing through her veins like fire. "What are you going to do now?" she asked. "They knew you were going to go to the Jumperbay, John. They even set up an ambush for you if you did make it inside. Whatever you do next will be anticipated and stopped."
John's smile didn't waver, but his eyes were hard and annoyed. "What do you think I'm going to do next, Liz?"
Elizabeth studied his face. She didn't know what was wrong with him, or why he was doing this; all she knew was that he was angry, hate-filled, almost. But she had no idea what he wanted, from her or from anyone else. "I don't know," she finally admitted.
"You'll find out soon enough," John said, smiling in a way that made Elizabeth's heart sink with dread. He grabbed her wrist, gave her a casual push forward, and they were running again.
John kept his word. Elizabeth did find out soon enough.
When he shot the two marines that got in his way, dragged her into one of the remote computer terminals of Atlantis – the very same one, in fact, that Phobus had used while inhabiting her body – Elizabeth realized exactly what he was doing.
"John – no. Don't do it," she said, terror making her throat tighten as she watched him close the bulkhead doors of the control center and start typing his command code into the computer.
"Do what, dear Elizabeth?" John said calmly, as if he wasn't about to give a total lockdown of Atlantis using his command code.
Elizabeth didn't respond, holding her breath as she watched John put in his code – there was a chance, oh God she hoped so, a chance that Rodney would have foreseen this. Then maybe Lt. Marl would the only casualty, the only person who died today by John's hands.
A negative beep drew her attention back to the computer. There, across the screen, the words 'INVALID CODE' flashed, making Elizabeth sink to the floor in pure, unadulterated relief.
John, though, was less than happy. He stared at the screen with an expression that chilled Elizabeth down to her core, and then turned to her.
"It looks like Rodney blocked out my command code," John said, his voice calm, but his eyes afire. "So I guess I'll have to use yours."
Elizabeth stared back at him, shaking her head slowly. "I'll never give you my command code."
John's eyes flashed. He stalked towards her, and she scrambled to get away, but not quickly enough. Grabbing her by the throat, he yanked her to her feet, hissing, "Give me the code."
"Even if I did give it to you," Elizabeth gasped, struggling to breathe, "It wouldn't matter. Rodney knows you have me hostage. He knows that you'll try to use my code, so he's probably blocked it out as well."
"If that's the case, then why don't you give me your code?" John said. "Since it won't work anyway."
Elizabeth hesitated. She hoped that Rodney had blocked out her code, but if he hadn't… "No."
It wasn't the right answer. A hard look crossed John's face, just before he flung her forcefully against the wall; too forcefully, as her vision went black immediately.
-----
Pain was the first thing Elizabeth was aware of. It permeated her entire body, making her head throb and muscles ache. With a soft moan, she opened her eyes, blinking as she attempted to clear her blurred vision. She tried to lift up her hand, but couldn't; it felt as if it was strapped down. Confused, she lifted her head. The sight that greeted her made the breath snag in her throat as she froze.
She was strapped down to a table in the middle of the control room. Not far away, the computers were still flashing 'INVALID CODE', a sight that filled her with relief and apprehension as well. John stood just three feet away from the table, turned with his back to her. He seemed to realize she was awake, though, and turned around.
Elizabeth swallowed hard. Now she could see what he had been doing. He was caressing his fingers up and down the edge of a dagger in an almost caring gesture. She knew his intentions were far from caring, though, and belatedly wished that she had pretended to be still out cold.
"Hello, Elizabeth," John said calmly, his fingers still stroking the blade. "Are you ready to give me your code now?"
Elizabeth found that her mouth seemed to have glued itself shut, and simply shook her head.
"Well, that's a shame, wouldn't you say?" John drawled, coming closer to the table. "If you don't give me the code voluntarily, then I'll have to find out a way to take it from you…involuntarily. Now, which do you think would be more pleasant for you?"
Again, Elizabeth shook her head. "I'm never going to give you my code," she told him.
John circled the table with a sigh. "I'm getting tired of your resistance, Liz," he said. Standing behind her, he placed his hands on either side of her head and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "This could get really ugly, really fast. You're tied to a table, and right now I'm not exactly in the mood for asking for what I want, in case you haven't noticed."
"Even if I gave you the code," Elizabeth said, tremors running down her spine, "how do I know for sure that you won't hurt me after you find out it's useless?"
John laughed, gently stroking the side of her face. "You don't," he murmured
He stopped touching her face and said, "Now give me the code."
-----
Rodney typed furiously on his laptop, cursing under his breath as he heard Elizabeth cry out again. He'd managed to block Sheppard's code from the system before he could use it, but hadn't been able to do the same with Elizabeth's; Atlantis wouldn't allow two senior command codes to be blocked out at once. He was now trying to open the bulkhead doors that blocked them from where Elizabeth and Sheppard were located, without success.
The one thing he had managed to do was get an audio and video feed from the room – and so far, he was wishing he hadn't.
Ronon stopped pacing for a moment to shoot him a glare. "Can't you get the doors open?"
"I'm trying, and you sending me death glares isn't helping!" snapped Rodney. He and almost every other person in the Control Room flinched as Elizabeth gasped in pain.
"Well hurry up," Ronon growled.
"I am," Rodney snarled, adding a few swearwords as he came up on another block. Usually it would have been easy to unlock the bulkhead doors, but when Sheppard had disabled the citywide lifesigns detector, he'd screwed up a few other systems as well.
"Dr. McKay!"
"What, Lorne?" Rodney snapped into his radio.
"I hate to put any pressure on you, but you really need to get those damn doors open," Lorne said, his voice so tense that you could have strung a couple of ZPMs on it.
Frowning, he spared a moment to glance up at the video of Sheppard and Weir. Damn it, what was Sheppard doing now? Wasn't it bad enough that he'd just spent the last ten minutes torturing Elizabeth?
His eyes widened in horror as he heard a ripping noise. Elizabeth's face had a rare look of terror that he'd never seen, not even when Koyla had threatened to kill them. She had begun to plead with John, asking in a tone close to panic for him to stop. He ignored her, continuing to tear off her jacket and shirt, and the look in his eyes told Rodney that he wasn't about to stop.
The sight of his best friend about to violate a woman they both knew and respected was probably what spurred him to get the doors open, in truly inhuman speed.
-----
Elizabeth's breath grew ragged and disjointed as she struggled to get away from John's callous hands. She'd been close to panicking when he'd started ripping off her clothes, but had lost herself to terror when he'd mounted the table, his body posed over hers. She was fighting back violently now, even though her hands and feet were still bound.
That's when the bulkhead doors opened, a dozen or so marines pouring into the room with guns ready. John was stunned within seconds, and the table flipped over from the force of several blasts hitting it simultaneously. Elizabeth's head connected with the floor, one last thought flying through her mind: Thank God, it's over.
-----
Elizabeth woke to the rhythmic bleeping of heart monitors and rustle of nurses' uniforms. Opening her eyes, she was greeted by the gentle smile of a certain familiar Scottish doctor.
"Hello, lass. It's good to see you awake," Carson said. "How're you feeling?"
She sat up in her bed slowly, testing out her body. "Not bad. Kind of achy, but nothing very painful," she told him truthfully.
"Good to hear it," Carson said. "Water?" He held out a cup, which she accepted gratefully.
As she drank, he asked her a few more medical-related questions, which she responded to quickly, impatient to move to another topic. Carson must have sensed this, no doubt, as he soon sighed and said,
"John is fine. He put up quite the struggle, before we could sedate him, but he's sleeping peacefully now."
Elizabeth nodded, bracing herself for the answer to one of the most pressing questions on her mind. Taking a breath, she asked, "How many casualties?"
Carson bowed his head. "There are several soldiers being treated for gunshot wounds, but they're all going to be fine. The only fatal casualty was Lt. Marl."
Elizabeth bit her lip and looked down at her hands. She spent a minute trying to regain control of her emotions, but then something broke inside and tears began to run unchecked down her face. "I don't understand," she said. "What's wrong with him? Why did he do it?"
Carson sighed, reaching out to squeeze Elizabeth's hand. "Don't cry, lass. He hasn't lost it, if that's what you're thinking. It was a drug."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"After John and his team returned from their mission, I gave them the regular look-over and took blood samples just in case. In John's blood, I found a foreign substance, a drug. I wanted him to be brought back to the infirmary for further testing, but by then…" he trailed off, and Elizabeth knew that by then, it'd been too late. "In any case, I've been testing it, and it seems to stimulate certain areas of the brain that control rage and anger. It also depresses areas in the front part of the brain, which is in charge of self-control and emotion management. In addition, it has a slow, but powerful, effect; which explains why it took some time for Colonel Sheppard to begin acting as he did. At some point in the mission, he was given a very high dose of the drug."
Elizabeth's mind was whirling from the new information, questions of who had given John the drug and why they would want to do so demanding to be answered; but first things first.
"Will he be alright?"
"I believe so," Carson said, with a small smile. "The drug has already broken down in his system, and is mostly gone. Besides, Sheppard is a resilient one."
"I want to see him," she said, the tone of her voice brooking no argument.
Carson recognized that she wouldn't be discouraged, and nodded (if somewhat reluctantly). He helped Elizabeth to her feet and led her to an area of the infirmary that was sectioned off by curtains.
"He's in there," Carson told her. "I'll leave you two alone, but only for five minutes. You need to rest."
Elizabeth nodded, giving the doctor a reassuring smile, and he left. Taking a deep breath, she hesitantly pushed aside the curtain and stepped inside.
John lay on the bed, his eyes closed as he slept. Carson was right; he did look peaceful. The lines of anger were smoothed out, the look of hate gone. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that this was not the old John Sheppard, the one that visited her in the mornings to give her coffee, the one that treated her to cocky grins and defended her honor. Sighing, she moved to his bedside, reaching out to gently touch the same hand that had struck her only hours before.
A sudden, soft moan issued from John's throat. Elizabeth started at the sound and stared warily as his head turned towards her, eyes still not open. She waited, holding her breath, until they did open. Looking at her, he mumbled, "'Lizabeth?"
"Yes," she replied, in a murmur. "How are you feeling?"
He didn't reply, only looked at her, his face displaying a myriad of emotions. Slowly, his hand reached out to touch her face, his eyes studying the bruises that adorned it. She stayed absolutely still, watching as confusion, followed by realization, followed by horror and shame surfaced on his face. His eyes met hers, and she saw the grief and distress there, just before the drugs pulled him back into sleep.
Holding his hand in hers, Elizabeth stroked his soft brown hair, smiling even through the tears that fell thick and fast from her face.
Smiling because she knew that the old John Sheppard was back.
Weeping because she knew he'd never be the same, not after he remembered the dead man killed by his hand.
FIN
A/N: I may write a sequel. First, tell me what you think.