Disclaimer: Don't own, don't profit from my "borrowing" of these beloved characters.
A/N: Post The Brotherhood. Just re-watched it and I can't seem to forget John's reaction to the news of the incoming Wraith hive ships. My recent fics have been much lighter and more humorous. This one is darker, more intense, so if you are in the mood for lighter fare, try Relinquish. Otherwise, consider yourself warned.
Elizabeth twisted uncomfortably outside the door to John's quarters. She was painfully aware of the odd glances of passing crew members. She waited only a moment longer before using her command codes to open the door. Waiting outside his door in her yoga clothes and bare feet would do nothing but cause unnecessary rumors and the crew of Atlantis had enough of real concern to occupy their minds now. Warily, she moved through the entryway, slipping silently into his room.
John hadn't answered his radio and that worried Elizabeth. She'd seen his eyes when he'd learned three Wraith hive ships were two weeks out form the city. As if spending quality time with Koyla hadn't been enough fun for one day, John had been welcomed home to that along with learning two members of the crew had perished trying to bring down the Wraith scout dart.
Elizabeth was painfully aware that everyone on Atlantis had been brutally pushed to the brink of what any human could be expected to endure both mentally and physically since they'd arrived. It seemed ironically not unlike death at the hands of the Wraith to have your will and drive sucked from your soul under the constant threats. She was afraid that John had been emotionally wrung so fiercely one day soon he'd have nothing left to give. She hoped that day was not today. Atlantis desperately needed him if they were to survive the month.
Waves of steam rippled out of the bathroom doors. The splattering of water against the tile was the only sound in the room. She eased closer and spotted John in front of the mirror. He was leaning forward, supporting his body with arms outstretched against the sink.
He stood up suddenly, wiping a hand across the cloudy mirror. "What are you doing here, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth's breath caught at the bitter undercurrent of his tone, though she wasn't entirely surprised he wasn't happy to see her. Honestly, she wouldn't blame him for hating her right about now. If that were true, it would almost give her some relief, as long as he still felt some kind of anything actually. She'd backed him into a corner when she'd enlisted Jack to help recruit him for the mission. Now John was the ranking military officer and three Wraith hive ships were two weeks out. Not probably the burden he'd envisioned when he stepped through the Gate.
Elizabeth edged closer. "I couldn't contact you on radio, I worried-"
"You have hundreds of people at your disposal to run errands. Why are you here?" His voice was so low she found herself stepping closer to hear him.
"I needed to talk to you."
"And not reaching me on the radio didn't make a point? Don't want to talk." He threaded both hands through his hair before turning around to face her. He pulled his shirt over his head tossing it carelessly to the floor and pressed a hand against the door of the shower for balance, bending slightly to unlace his boots.
Elizabeth bit her lip as she considered her options. He was pushing her, both with his attitude and with his seeming intent to disrobe before her if she didn't leave. His eyes flickered accusingly onto hers and in that moment she couldn't understand how the aura of invulnerability that radiated from his toned physic coexisted with the poignant regret held in his eyes.
The scent of blood seemed fresh on his hands even now, the scent of blood at the hands of an Air Force pilot, Elizabeth thought, her teeth pressing into her lip. John hadn't chosen the Army, hadn't chosen the Marines. She could sense how his urge to fly was innate within him, just as the ATA gene he'd been blissfully unaware of for so many years. The kind of kills most pilots were conditioned for were impersonal, the kind that came at great distance.
She knew what he'd been through in Afghanistan and here she was forcing him to again become the type of killer that had to look their prey in the eye, watching as the life drained from their body. The Genii incursion alone had racked up his kill count enough to give her nightmares that would last for years to come and, yet today, he'd had to face that demon again. She hated herself for the pain she found when her eyes held his, but she could never look away.
Still holding her eyes, he tugged off his socks. The air seemed to thin somehow and Elizabeth was focusing hard just to breathe. His fingers moved to loosen the clasp on his belt, his eyes slanting in silent warning. She stepped closer and his eyes pressed shut. He turned his head away and planted his hands on his hips. She dared another step watching the muscles in his neck ripple when he swallowed. Her fingertips brushed against his rigid shoulder muscles before drifting up the side of his neck. She inhaled, breathing in the smell of his skin as her nose followed the path her fingers had just taken. Threading her fingers into his hair she rose up onto her toes and pulled his ear down closer to her lips.
"I'm sorry, John." She whispered, hoping he would forgive her one day. He was just one of many she owed those sentiments too.
But he was the one she needed redemption from tonight and he was the one she couldn't allow to fall. There was something within him she'd seen, more than his strength, and beyond the intelligence he downplayed underneath his charm and humor. She'd watched the way the others responded to him, followed him. It was something he didn't even recognize yet in himself, the natural ability to lead. He was ready for this. It wasn't his fault Atlantis was not.
"We're going to find out what hell is like when the Wraith attack. How am I supposed to protect you, protect them all, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth stepped back, her finger tracing gently under the line of his jaw. She cupped his chin, forcing him to bring his eyes back to hers.
"I'll be by your side when we face that hell, but I need you there. I need the John Sheppard who isn't afraid to be stubborn, the John Sheppard who disobeyed orders in Afghanistan at great cost to himself because it was the right thing to do. I need you, John, and I refuse to allow your spirit to be broken by the blood spilt as a result of my directives."
John blinked rapidly as he studied her face. She wondered if he could smell her own fear, feel her own frustration at the situation they had found themselves in. Though Stargate Command didn't know they would discover the jumpers, it wasn't a stretch to imagine the expedition would find some type of ships. She'd been pissed beyond belief that the government refused to test more pilots for the ATA gene. The Atlantis expedition was one of those very calculated risks the government took and she had reached her budgetary threshold on the government's analysis of the investment they had in their soldiers. Pilots, she'd learned, were considered extremely valuable. It had made Elizabeth sick to hear them speaking of soldiers like cattle they owned and traded at whim, eyes always cognizant of the bottom line.
John started to speak a couple times, but stalled. Elizabeth eased back to give him some space thinking he was about to try again. She was wrong. His body closed the distance between them and his lips collided with hers for the briefest of moments and then with an anguished growl he pulled himself away. Her hands raced to brush her swollen lips. They seemed painfully cold now that he'd drawn away. Inside her erratically beating heart emerged the understanding that there were other reasons that had led her here tonight. Elizabeth watched as he began to pace within the small space like he was some caged animal and realized she wanted John in ways that had nothing to do with Atlantis.
She stood firm, refusing to walk away. "I'm scared, but even more I hate that I-."
"It's natural to feel fear, you're allowed to be afraid." He kept his eyes glued to the floor as he paced.
"But I'm not allowed to need you." Her voice was choked with raw emotion.
He froze before her and his eyes slowly crept towards her own. They were simmering in a way that stirred a shimmer of hope deep inside Elizabeth. She could see a flicker of passion within them again, burning against that black fog of defeat that she'd seen covering them more and more every day. She wordlessly took a step forward, her hand gingerly taking hold of his belt and pulling it slowly free from his waist.
Just as she dropped it to the floor, his hands came up to grasp her wrists. He stepped forward pushing her backward step by step until her back lightly thudded against the wall outside the shower.
John's face tucked, his breath fell hot against her ear. "You shouldn't have come here tonight."
She was about to cross a line she would have never dared in a prior life. But the rules were different now, if only within her own mind. Her hands wove through his thick hair. She gripped tightly holding his forehead tight against her cheek.
"John, I don't want to go." She whispered.
As she relented her grasp on his hair, he turned his face, brushing his nose against hers. His hands gripped her waist and he drew her along with him into the awaiting shower. John's head burrowed into her neck, one hand threading through her hair, the other stretching down past her waist holding her body pressed firmly against his own. Not caring that her body was still adorned with clothing, now saturated and weighing heavy against her skin, she clung to him. After the hellish day they'd endured, surely they deserved this one night, if nothing else.