A/N: Here's a sappy, sad story that I wrote over the course of about two weeks in math. Oddly enough, my teacher didn't notice every day that I was not paying attention. Hmm. Anyways, read and--enjoy? Well, not really an enjoyful (not a word, I don't care) story, but whatever. Beta'ed by Oparu (again)!
Pairing: Sheppard/Weir (yay Sparky!)
He coughed, blinking to rid his eyes of the dust. It seemed as if he were looking through a hazy veil. The dust clouded his vision, and he could barely see the wall of rock ahead of him.
He heard a rasping cough behind him, slightly annoyed sounding. That had to be Rodney. A glimmer of recognition flickered in his brain, and it came back to him in a flash.
The Ancient script- the cave-in- the fear on the face he'd promised to protect; disappearing behind a curtain of boulders. Elizabeth.
"Elizabeth!" he called out her name, coughing violently, but received no reply. He inhaled to try again, but breathed in another mouthful of dust. He coughed again to expel it, saying her name again in a strained and hoarse voice.
"Oh, I'm fine, don't worry about me," he heard Rodney's voice say behind him. John turned around, dragging himself up in the process. He winced at a slight twinge in his knee. He must've fallen on it somehow, or maybe it rammed into the rock. Rodney was lying face down in the dirt, mumbling against the floor. He groaned as John neared him. "What happened?" he asked John, sighing dramatically.
John hauled him up and leaned him against the wall. "You okay?"
"More or less," Rodney answered, reaching for his water bottle. After taking a drink, he sputtered, "Hey--wait--where's Elizabeth? She was with the Ancient--and the--is she--she was just here--"
"No kidding," John said splashing water on his face. He wiped his eyes and his hand came back muddy; he could feel the dirty liquid running down his face. He ignored it, fumbling for his radio and turning it on.
"Colonel Sheppard?" The voice coming from the device startled him. It wasn't Elizabeth, but Teyla's voice gave him some sort of comfort. "Teyla? That you?" he asked, though he knew the answer.
"Yes, John," she answered, sounding relieved and less worried. "Ronon is here with me. Were you hurt in the cave-in?"
"We're fine. Well, Rodney's here with me but I don't know where Elizabeth is. The cave-in separated us." He declined to say "it crushed her", trying to reassure himself it hadn't happened.
"We have not heard from Elizabeth. As soon as we heard the rumblings, we made our way back from the Stargate. We are almost at your location. Is Dr. Weir--" She paused, not knowing what to say.
"I don't know. We're operating under the assumption she's fine, just caved in," John interrupted, knowing full well that wasn't what happened. "Just get back here so we can figure out what to do. Well, so Rodney can."
Rodney, who was busy poking rocks, looked back at him. "Oh, yeah, just assume I know how to tunnel through rock? I don't even know how thick this is! And any movement of any of these will probably collapse the whole cave."
"That's comforting. Just keep--doing whatever you do," John dismissed with a shrug, trying his radio again. "Elizabeth?"
"Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth's head swam as she opened her eyes. All she was were clouds; brown clouds in an odd cylinder of light. No, not clouds, she corrected herself. They were- dots- particles; she wondered. What was that tinny voice?
"Elizabeth? Are you there? Can you hear me?"
She stared at her chest, wondering what she could have possibly drank that had left her with a talking chest and a hell of a hangover. She looked around, back down at herself, and managed to put it together. The cave-in--John--Rodney--and that voice. A radio; not her chest talking to her.
She grabbed the radio, and the sudden action made her feel extremely dizzy. Her head felt as if it were under extreme pressure, and it felt fuzzy. She found the right button, and responded. "John?" Her voice sounded raspy to her own ears.
"Elizabeth?" came the reply, though he knew very well it was her. "Are you okay? Where are you?"
She sat up with some difficulty, leaning heavily on the boulders behind her. Her head still felt odd and as she raised a hand to it, blood met her fingertips. "I think I hit my head. Other than that, I'm fine. As to my location, I have no idea. It's a room with rocks." She looked around again. "Uh, a room with no apparent way out."
She heard him suck in his breath. "You must be in the inlet. The rock separating us can't be too deep, then."
"Are you okay? Where's Rodney? Can you still get out?" she asked, finally coming to her senses.
"Uh, yeah, sorry. No, I'm fine, Rodney's here, he's fine. Yeah, the cave's still open. We can get out, but we're going to get you out first, don't worry. Can you see anything? Is there any light?"
She looked around. The only light was coming from her flashlight, and it was pointed at a wall. There were small pinpoints of light from the wall she was leaning against, which she presumed was what was separating her from the others. She told John this, and added, "There's not enough light to see anything, though."
"The wall's got to be pretty thick, then," he said after a pause. "Okay, we're going to try to dig you out. Rodney says it should be pretty safe, and Teyla and Ronon just arrived. Are the rocks small enough to move on your own?"
She nodded, then realized he couldn't see it. "For the most part, at least."
"Okay, Elizabeth, just hold on."
She stretched her arm as far as it would reach and brushed John's fingertips. His hand automatically twitched and grasped hers, a sign of victory. She could hear him now without the radio, the holes in the rocks large enough to hear through.
"Okay, so it can't be more than two arm's lengths away," she heard John say. His fingers were still gripping hers tightly, but it lessened as he began to withdraw.
Suddenly, a rumble began, and before either John or Elizabeth could retract their clasped hands, a massive amount of boulders fell on their joined arms. There were audible snaps on both ends, a chain reaction from the fingers up to the shoulders. Elizabeth yelped, a sort of muffled scream, and John swore. Dust flew everywhere, effectively gagging Elizabeth in her enclosed area. John was slightly luckier, but when both tried to pull their arms out, they were met with pain and failure.
Their arms were rapidly losing feeling, but Elizabeth's hand still held fast to his. It was really all she could do--her arm was broken, buried, and trapped. It took all her willpower to stop herself from screaming. Her arm felt as if it were being ripped from its socket, and her shoulder protested any movement. She was stuck, half sitting, half lying down on a dirt floor that could crush her at any moment. She had no choice but to stay where she was, and she was helpless to move away.
John was in a similar position, but he had three people to help him. The weight of the rocks was massive, but he couldn't feel his broken arm because the feeling had fled. He could still tell he was holding Elizabeth's hand, but it was too bittersweet to mention to the others. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and as Rodney began to calculate he began to talk.
"Okay, Rodney, find out what we can do. Teyla, Ronon, go back to the Stargate and contact Atlantis--tell them our situation and what Rodney advises-"
He was interrupted by Rodney, whose pale face and worried eyes did nothing to reassure him. "I'll, uh, I'll need Zelenka, and a lot of strong military types--moving the rock, and Elizabeth's got to...stay there, and survive..."
John nodded as Rodney rambled on. This was a precarious position they were in. "What about the Daedalus? Is there any chance of getting them here in the next few days?"
Rodney shook his head, swallowing. "No, no, no, they just got back to Earth, and they can't get back for another 20-odd days, they're out of the question. And even if we could beam her up, there's no guarantee the rocks won't come with it, and that would include your arm, and that would sever it from your shoulder, and there would be blood and it would not be good-"
"Just do what you have to, okay?' John said, grabbing his radio. "Elizabeth? Elizabeth! Are you okay?"
The reply was a laugh, but it was coupled with a pained voice. "Just fine. You?"
"Peachy. Except for the fact I can't feel my right arm. That puts a damper on the festivities."
There was a beat, and then Elizabeth started talking again. "John, I'm sorry. If I hadn't insisted to see the ruins, we wouldn't be in this position right now."
John stared at his radio and then at the rock wall. "What? No. Elizabeth, this wasn't your fault. I believe Rodney offered the idea, if we're going for blame. I supported it. Besides, you got your wish--you have plenty of time to study the texts on the walls now, right?"
She chuckled wryly. "Yeah, except there's no light in here and my flashlight is out of my reach."
"Oh," John replied after a pause, "that makes things harder."
Rodney poked him, a worried look on his face. John tried to turn around, but only succeeded in hurting his shoulder. He opted instead to look over his shoulder. "According to this," he told him, pointing at a handheld device John didn't understand, "if we don't move the right rocks, there'll be another cave-in."
John looked at him. "Well, yeah, we figured that out," he replied keeping the radio channel open for Elizabeth, "which would be why we're not digging. I should think that would be obvious."
Rodney didn't even make an attempt to insult him. No snarky comment passed his lips; a rarity in the history of Rodney McKay. That was what worried John the most.
Rodney stared pointedly at his radio, and John caught the implication, though not quite understanding it. He switched off the radio and looked expectantly at him.
He wasted no time. "Look here. Any moving of any of these will cause another cave-in--but only in the inlet. There's a chance the rock won't make it to the back of the inlet, but it's still probably going to collapse. The whole room's going to go down sooner or later--the structural integrity in this place is horrible. The point is, almost any rock we move, Elizabeth's whole room is going to collapse."
Teyla's expression turned to horror. "You mean--there is no way to rescue Dr. Weir?"
"Are you sure the Daedalus can't get back?" Ronon asked at the same time.
John and Rodney turned to them, almost forgetting they were there. "Uh," Rodney said, rather ineloquently, "no. They just got back to Earth, and there's no way they could get back before she-"
"Wait a second, hold up," John interrupted, not wanting to hear what Rodney was going to say next. He held up a hand, realizing he must look rather silly trying to be a commanding presence with his arm swallowed up by rocks, but he didn't care. "You're talking about her being in there for days. Can't we just tunnel through the back? It it's structurally sound back there-"
"But it's not!" Rodney interjected, brandishing the scanner for proof. "Look, any moving of any rock will bring the whole ceiling down on Elizabeth's head!"
Suddenly the radio clicked on, and Elizabeth's voice came out of it. "What's going on? What happened to the radio connection?"
John hesitated, but responded. "We're running into a few problems getting you out."
"As in…?"
"Uh, some slight cave-in problems," he said, and against his better judgment, he shut the radio off one more time and directed his next statement at Rodney. "You're sure we can't dig her out? Shovels, puddlejumpers, C-4?"
Rodney sighed. "Yes, because blowing it up would work well."
John swore and punched the ground with his free hand.
It started slowly. A slight rumbling with the rattling of small pebbles, with dust rising again into John's face. He looked in horror at his trapped arm and then at Rodney, whose expression mirrored his own.
"Oh, crap. No—I didn't mean to do that. Wait—Elizabeth!"
"John? Is there another cave-in?" he heard her ask as the radio came to life again.
He couldn't bring himself to tell her he'd been the one to cause it. "Yes. Listen—you need to get to the back of the inlet. McKay says it's the most…structurally sound. Can you do that?"
She waited a beat, but replied. "No. My arm's too stuck to get out."
Rodney grabbed his own radio over the crescendo of rumbles. "Elizabeth, you need to get to the back. If you don't, there will be hundreds of tons of rocks falling on your head and you'll die. You have to free your arm. Now."
John felt sick. The cave-in was his fault, and Elizabeth was dangerously close to—dare he say it?—death. No. He was going to save her. It was his job.
"Okay," she answered, suspiciously cool and calm, as if she'd accepted it. "Free my arm. That's all I have to do. Free my arm."
"Yeah, McKay, while you're at it, free my damn arm," John growled, and Rodney stopped and blinked at him as if he'd forgotten his arm was trapped.
"Oh. Right." He looked at him. "Wait, it'll cause the cave to collapse," he shouted over the noise.
John glared at him. "Like it is now? And isn't some part of the rock going to hit me?"
Rodney opened his mouth, probably to make a sarcastic reply, but a scream drowned him out. A scream they heard through the rock.
And then the cave collapsed.
Her funeral was on a sunny day. It was, perhaps, the most beautiful day Atlantis had seen. It was fitting, but it was also rather ironic; Elizabeth had loved those days.
John was silent. He'd been quiet ever since Carson had pronounced her dead. The spark that made him John was dying, little by little, and it was dangerously close to being extinguished altogether.
It died first when they uncovered her body. It was impossibly intact, except for her right arm, which was still wedged in the rock wall. The knife in her hand, covered in dusty blood, told the story they couldn't bring themselves to believe. She had made it halfway to the other side, and half of her body had been uncovered by rock. The back of the inlet sat there untouched, mocking the rescue team. Her chest had been crushed under the massive boulders, and Carson had determined she'd died instantly.
Ronon had carried her back.
John died a bit more when he saw her empty office. Her computer sat innocently on the desk, waiting to be turned on. Stargate Command hadn't quite decided on a replacement yet, but it was going to be a toss-up between Caldwell and himself. John wasn't sure if he could handle taking over Elizabeth's job and giving up off-world activity, but for her, he just might.
He faded further when he saw the empty balcony they used to share. He still imagined her standing there, leaning against the railing with the wind in her hair. Then he would blink, and the image would disappear.
Her body was sent back to Earth, and Carson had surgically reattached her arm. Her family didn't need to see that.
He died the most at her funeral on Atlantis. When the empty casket slid into the sea, he vowed never again to set foot in the water. When Teyla sang the funeral rite, and the Athosians prayed, he turned a deaf ear and stared straight ahead. Something had shattered inside him that was irreplaceable, and he had replaced his sadness with a wall. When Rodney turned to him for the eulogy, John noiselessly stepped up to the podium, his eyes now fixed on the sinking casket. When it completely disappeared, the ripples only a memory, he began to talk.
"A speech can't do Elizabeth Weir justice. Nothing can. But I will say this—without her, this city would be gone. She will always be remembered, not just by the members of this expedition." He paused, swallowing. He fingered the picture of Elizabeth that they'd found in her quarters, with the six of them—John, Elizabeth, Teyla, Ronon, Rodney, and Carson—smiling at last year's New Year's party. She looked so happy, so—alive. Now she was packed away on the Daedalus, ready to return home for a funeral on Earth. He looked up again, staring at the large crowd that was gathered in front of him. Many of the faces he looked at were wet with tears, but he felt oddly at peace. He'd put away his grief for another time, focused on honoring Elizabeth instead of feeling sorry for himself.
"I'm not going to stand up here and talk about how much she'll be missed. We all know she will be. I don't need to tell you how much she's done for us—you already know. She wouldn't want us to dwell on her death. She would want Atlantis to—to keep going. To do what we came here to do." He was losing eloquence. "And we will. In doing so, we will remember her. Just don't forget her. Remember Elizabeth." It was an awkward ending, and he stepped off the podium to scattered applause, which grew stronger as he moved back to his team.
They weren't clapping for him; they were clapping for Elizabeth. They were honoring their fallen leader.
As the applause reached a crescendo, Rodney turned to John. What he saw shocked him.
The light in his eyes was gone. They were dull and lifeless, his shoulders were squared, and he stood at a rapt attention. Rodney could almost see John's guard come up, and he could physically feel a wall between them. Rodney had expected at least some tears, or maybe a need for physical contact—he and Elizabeth had been close. Apparently closer than John had let on.
John avoided Rodney's gaze, eyes dry and motionless. Somewhere deep inside the façade was the broken John, the one that felt for Elizabeth's death and would openly cry. But that part of him was buried, buried under a mask that Rodney wasn't sure would ever be lifted.
His friend had changed, and as Rodney watched, all trace of emotion left John. He shut down completely, and he stared straight ahead, looking right through Elizabeth's smiling photograph.
I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I love Lizzie, I would never hurt her. Well, except here. I just needed to write this, and I don't know why. But here you are. "Angustia" means "heartbreak" or "anguish" in Spanish. I thought I would be clever and use Spanish instead of Latin. You know, break away from the pack and all.