Surface Tension

by Jo. R

A storm, Atlantis and seamonsters - oh my! Written for SWficathon 2008 so contains John/Elizabeth and also Sam/Jack.

Title: Surface Tension
Author: Jo. R
Rating: PG13
Pairings: John/Elizabeth, Sam/Jack
Category: Drama, action/adventure, angst, romance
Spoilers: Up to and including S4 episode 'Reunion' just to be on the safe side. Definite spoilers for 'Before I Sleep', 'Adrift' and 'Lifeline'.
Summary: She'd never be the woman he – they – wanted back.
Authors Notes: This was written for the swficathon on LiveJournal for Opal, who requested 'seamonsters, Rodney's whales, giant squid... anything'. Not sure if this is what you had in mind (it's not what I planned – I was going for the other prompt at first!) but I hope you enjoy it anyway :)
Huge hugs and thanks to Ruth and Ruthie for the beta and kind comments.

---

Her return was almost anti-climatic; there was no daring rescue of the distressed damsel, no heroic attempt to free her from the oppressive grip of her captors... No, she simply walked back into their lives, having met up with Major Lorne's evidently startled team on a routine visit to a trading planet the Atlanteans frequented, where she'd been waiting – somewhat desperately – for a glimpse of that all too illusive familiar face.

Confusion triumphed over joy, wariness over celebration. The only person who seemed genuinely pleased to have her back was Colonel Carter and even then Elizabeth knew the woman in charge could be a very good actress when the situation demanded it.

It hurt to be viewed with suspicion by the very people she'd been longing to see again. Something inside her threatened to break, a dull but constant ache reminding her that she wasn't the woman they remembered.

That she'd never be the woman he – they – wanted back.

There were still nanites in her body, microscopic machines that were both keeping her alive and killing her. Without them she faced certain death, with them she couldn't help but think death would be the easiest outcome for all of them.

For the first week, she was kept under quarantine until they could determine she was who she claimed to be. She was subjected to the constant uneasiness of someone being observed twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, until the young and optimistic Doctor Jennifer Keller somehow determined she didn't need to be kept under such intense scrutiny because she wasn't a risk to base security. And so she was released to her quarters, under armed guard, of course. Elizabeth both understood and welcomed the security measures, wishing she could be as convinced as the Doctor that she'd feel like her "old self again in no time. Welcome home, Doctor Weir."

It no longer felt like home.

Visitors came and went, most not stopping for more than a few minutes and none getting close enough to touch or risk being touched by her.

Not Teyla, not John. Two of the people she'd felt closest to, safest with. Two of the people she felt most hurt by.

They'd both visited, of course; Teyla brought tea. John caught her up on the goings-on of the city and had so clearly wanted to ask what she'd been through, where she'd been. In truth, she'd wanted him to, expected it even. She'd been anticipating him giving her the chance to share her burden but it hadn't come; maybe he was afraid she'd blame him or maybe, when push came to shove, he just couldn't face hearing what she needed to say.

Teyla had asked, too, but Elizabeth had hesitated, holding back her answer. The Athosian woman, though unfailingly sweet and sincere, had held herself differently, almost protectively. Then there was the ever-lurking shadow of Ronon hovering near the doorway, his presence reminding her that there was still an issue of trust – a lack of it – between them like a gaping chasm. Ronon didn't trust her, didn't believe her story that she'd escaped under her own steam. She could see it in his eyes, in the suspicion he made no attempt at hiding.

He, like many others, didn't believe that Elizabeth Weir had survived and felt an impostor had returned in her place.

A knock at the door disturbed her musings and it opened before she could call out to say otherwise. Being under guard as she was meant she had little say in what happened to her, and even littler privacy. Elizabeth sighed and stood and squared her shoulders, awaiting the standard small talk and the awkward moments of silence before she was left to her own devices once more.

Colonel Samantha Carter strode into the room with an easy confidence Elizabeth found she envied. Elizabeth held her breath as the blond woman continued walking, only stopping when she was mere inches away.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth." Her smile warm but tinged with regret, Sam reached out to touch the dark haired woman's arm in sympathy. Both were surprised when Elizabeth jerked her arm away, startled at the foreign contact. Undeterred but letting her arms drop casually to her sides, Sam gazed at her with a resigned expression on her face. "The IOA want to question you about the time you spent aboard the replicators vessel. They want to talk to you about how you escaped, any intel you might have picked up... There's nothing I could do to change their minds, Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I was able to insist the questioning take place here on Atlantis but nothing else I said was taken into account..."

Questioning. A polite term for interrogation. Immediately, Elizabeth's mind conjured up an image of a cold and clinical cell, the white walls slowly turning grey as an illusion was masked by what her rational mind supplied form memory of the holding cells at the SGC.

Interrogation. Imprisonment. A different kind of captivity but with the same underlying sentiment; a prisoner and lab rat. Not a human.

Willing her mind to focus, Elizabeth stared at Sam with green eyes she worked to keep clear. "When will they get here?"

"General O'Neill will be escorting them here tomorrow." Again, a flash of sorrow passed over Sam's face. Again, a hand reached out to touch hers. Elizabeth surprised them both again by allowing the contact, by letting the warmth of the gesture temporarily soothe the ache inside. "We'll do everything we can to help you," Sam promised, her fingers tightening momentarily. "You're not alone anymore, Elizabeth."

A few minutes later and Sam was summoned to another part of the city, leaving with an apologetic smile to do the job that had once been hers.

Alone again, Elizabeth sat on the edge of her bed and stared with a stranger's eyes at the belongings scattered around the room. Personal belongings, little intimate touches in an otherwise barren room.

She'd had a life here once, a home.

She wondered if she'd ever have it back again.

---

"McKay thinks the storm will hit a day after you're scheduled to arrive. It may be best if we rearrange your trip to Atlantis, Sir."

Staring at the face she hadn't seen in months, looking into those eyes and having to stay unaffected and entirely too professional was hell. Speaking to her lover via a screen and a headset while they both sat in crowded control rooms in different galaxies was so not how she envisioned their next meeting a few scant weeks ago. No, she'd been planning to surprise him on her next routine briefing visit to the SGC, taking a few days of well-earned downtime to travel to DC and be there waiting in their small but cosy apartment when he came home from a long day at the office. There would have been goofy grins and long embraces and maybe later – much later – some Chinese takeout from the place across the street while she humoured his addiction to those little yellow people he loved so much.

Not now. Those plans had flown out of the metaphorical window as soon as Elizabeth Weir had stepped through the Stargate, looking all the more lost for having found her way home.

There was a look in Elizabeth's eyes that Sam recognised all too well, an expression she'd seen on her own face from time to time and didn't care to be reminded of. What she'd been through and what Elizabeth had been through couldn't compare but they were both women who'd seen and experienced horrors other people could only imagine in nightmares, both survivors of replicator-induced hell.

Sam felt a strange kinship with the other woman, a fierce protectiveness she'd felt for Cassandra when the young girl's path had first crossed her own. Doctor Weir was far from being a child but she was far from being the woman she once was, a woman who's reputation even Sam Carter of SG-1 fame couldn't live up to.

Elizabeth Weir had been so much more than a leader to the people of the Atlantis expedition, so much more than a mere command figure. She'd been a friend, much loved and even revered in her absence. Sam knew, sadly, that it would be virtually impossible given the political state of the Stargate programme for everything to revert back to the way it once had been but she was determined to make sure that some things – most things – did.

"Nice try, Carter, but Woolsey would have a breakdown if I suggested putting it off again." There was the briefest of smirks on his face, though genuine concern shone in his eyes. "You don't think she's up to this."

Sam hesitated, knowing their conversation wasn't exactly private. She kept herself from glancing to the Lieutenant Colonel hovering nearby, knowing he was listening to her every word. "I think... She's still got a long way to go. I can't even begin to imagine what she went through..."

"Can't you?" Jack interrupted, his brown eyes dark and knowing. "You were captured by Fifth."

"For a few days," she reminded him quietly, fighting not to close her eyes at the memories that swam to the forefront of her mind. "Doctor Weir was gone for a lot longer and had more than one replicator to deal with. What I went through doesn't compare with what she's been through..."

"It was enough."

She tried to smile but only managed to hold it for a few seconds. "So you'll be arriving tomorrow as planned?"

The slight change in subject was swift and welcome for both of them. Jack nodded, glancing away from the screen for a moment to confirm it with his companions. He rolled his eyes at something that was said away from the microphone and turned back to her with a grim though determined expression. "We'll be there. It's your call if you want there to be someone with Elizabeth when we talk to her."

"I'll be there," Sam stated immediately, squaring her shoulders in case anyone listening had any complaints. "She's technically one of my people," she reminded both the man on the screen in front of her and the one sitting nearby in the operations centre of Atlantis. "I'm sure Colonel Sheppard or a member of his team..." She cast a glance at John, eyebrow arching at his momentary hesitation before he nodded in confirmation. "One of them will be there, too," she continued, returning her attention to the screen.

"Then I guess we'll see you tomorrow, Colonel. SGC out."

The screen faded to black as the wormhole disengaged. For a split second, Sam allowed herself a moment of regret that the goodbye couldn't have been a little more personal but rallied around when she remembered that a) they had an audience and b) she'd be seeing him in person in less than twenty-four hours. The situation was far from ideal but she'd learned a long time ago to take what she could get and be happy with it.

Standing, she removed the headset she'd been using and glanced at Colonel Sheppard, who instantly tried to busy himself with something else. "John?" She waited until he glanced up at her, the look of guilt on his face telling her he knew he was trapped. "Care to help me make sure the balcony's secure?"

It was an order, not a request, and very thinly veiled at that.

Without waiting for a sign of acknowledgement, Sam strode towards the doors leading out onto the balcony, not needing to glance back over her shoulder to know he wasn't far behind. They walked in silence to the railing, standing where they'd stood a dozen times before.

Standing where they'd spoken of Elizabeth, of getting her back, at least a dozen times since the diplomatic leader had reluctantly been left behind.

"Can you make this quick? There's a storm coming and McKay gets all weird about storms for some reason. Keeps thinking he's gonna get held at gunpoint..." His attempt at humour fell flat and the grin he'd tried to fool her with faded at the look on her face. "I know what you're going to say..."

"Do you?" A hand clenched where it rested on her hip, her other gripping the balcony painfully. "You remember what it's like to have your mind violated by the replicators, don't you? Do you know what it feels like to have one of them read your innermost personal thoughts and feelings, exploiting them and twisting them until you're not sure what's real and what's not? How confusing and painful and heartbreaking it can be to think you're safe then suddenly find yourself back in the midst of a sick mind game you've got no chance in hell of winning?" Anger flared in her face, giving her a flushed appearance. Still, her eyes stayed cool and flat, studying him with an almost icy calm. "You wanted this, John. You wanted her to come home and now she has, you're doing everything you can to avoid seeing her."

"No, I'm not," he protested, lifting a hand to run it through his hair. "I'm trying to help her – you know I've been helping McKay and Keller with the EMP generator..."

"Helping? Hindering more like. Hovering and demanding they work harder isn't helping them and it sure as hell isn't helping Elizabeth." The guilt was joined by a flash of pain, so intense that she couldn't help but soften. The fist on her hip relaxed and moved and she gripped the balcony with both palms, staring out across the sea towards the expanse of dark, brooding cloud that was gathering on the horizon. "She needs you more than McKay and Keller. She needs someone to reassure her that it's going to be okay and that the nightmare she's been living in really is over. She needs you, John."

For a long moment, he said nothing. He joined her at the balcony and stared at the ominous cloud heading their way. When he spoke, it was very quietly, almost hard to hear over the crashing of the waves below. "It's not over, though, is it? The nightmare's not over for her because we don't know why they let her leave or what the long-term damage is." His gaze was fixed on the oncoming storm, his expression as bleak as the sky above them. "Keller said the nanites are dying, which means she's dying. She just doesn't know it yet and I can't be the one to tell her. I can't..." He shook his head and stared down at his hands, stared at the bloodless knuckles holding the railing in a death grip. "I can't get her back only to lose her again."

As his commanding officer, Sam knew it was her job to remind him of what was at stake, that they needed Elizabeth to cooperate with the questioning and tell them what she knew if they were to stand a chance of defending the city against another replicator attack. She knew that it was her job to give him a pep talk, to say something – anything – that would snap him out of the daze he'd been in since Elizabeth Weir had returned. He was her Second in Command and she needed him to be alert, especially with the uncertainty of their first storm on this planet ahead of them.

She knew she should do that but couldn't quite bring herself to do it. The problem was she sympathised too much with his situation, felt too much for everyone involved in it. Just as she'd come to feel protective over Elizabeth, she'd fallen into the trap of caring too much for those under her command. She'd allowed herself to become a friend to the people of the Atlantis expedition despite all of the mental promises she'd made herself about keeping her distance and not getting to close; Atlantis was supposed to be just another assignment to her, a way to pass the time until she was allowed to go home again. Instead it had become home and she didn't know how she was supposed to handle that.

Promising herself she'd make time to talk over her concerns with Jack – after all, he'd been the one to help the IOA convince her she should come to Atlantis in the first place – Sam braced herself for the inevitable and turned to face her companion, arms wrapped around her waist to ward off the sudden chill blowing in from off the ocean.

"If Elizabeth doesn't tell the IOA what they need to know, they will take her back to Earth and question her there. They'll keep questioning her until she dies and the last thing she'll be likely to see it the inside of a holding cell at Area 51 or the SGC if she's lucky. McKay and Keller might as well give up now if we let them take her because they won't allow her to come back regardless of what breakthroughs they might make." She winced at the look in his eyes but forced herself to continue. "Can you live with that, John? Can you live with knowing she spent her last days alive trapped in some Godforsaken cell when she could've been here with you if only you'd helped her out a little and offered her the reassurance she needs?"

"You're asking me to lie to her..."

"No. I'm asking you to be there for her. Tell her what she wants – no, what she needs to hear." Her hands tightened around her upper arms, no doubt leaving bruises but Sam didn't care.

"You're telling me to lie to her. To give her false reassurances that it's over when we both know that is isn't!"

She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm asking you to be her friend. If you cared for her half as much as you led me to believe, that wouldn't be a problem."

Turning on her heel, unable to see the fury swiftly change into something else at the delivery of the low blow, Sam walked back inside the relative safely of the city walls with legs she wasn't sure would carry her weight. She walked straight to her office without acknowledging the technicians who looked up at her curiously and once again wished the walls were made of something other than glass.

Sitting at her desk, she pulled her laptop nearer and opened the most recently accessed file.

The words blurred and didn't make sense. The storm outside grew closer and the loneliness of command consumed her once more.

---

The Wraith base was close, she could sense it. She could feel the excitement and anticipation of the others even if she couldn't quite bring herself to share it. She couldn't read their minds or hear their thoughts but she could feel what they were feeling and that both invigorated and disgusted her.

She was one of them, as close to being one of them as a born human could be. They'd brought her with them, included her in this mission, because they saw her as one of their own.

Because they trusted her, believed in her.

Knew she'd kill with them, for them, as one of them.

Elizabeth Weir felt a wave of fear crest over her and clung onto it with both hands. Replicators didn't feel fear; they didn't feel guilt or sorrow or pity or pain. She couldn't be one of them if she felt those things, could she? She couldn't be like them, one of them, if she still felt and thought like a human being?

Like the woman she remembered she once was?

They moved stealthily as a group and Elizabeth followed with ease having rehearsed the moves both physically and mentally for weeks. Every waking moment was spent training for this, even when she was still in the secure confinement of her cell. One of the others, sometimes but not always the same one, would come to her cell and join with her and when their minds were merged, would simulate the mission over and over and over again until she got it right. Then again and again until it was perfect.

Until she was perfect.

The perfect human-Replicator hybrid, a freak of nature, a thing to fear.

Someone who would never be welcomed home.

The walk from the Stargate to the base took exactly the allotted amount of time. She followed the Replicators in front without question, without argument, knowing what she had to do – knowing what punishment would await her if she failed.

The weapon in her hand felt at once foreign and familiar to her, its weight a comfort but also a burden she wasn't sure she could carry. She wasn't a fighter, not by any stretch of the imagination. Her role was to encourage peace through sensible solutions created by compromise and tact.

She wasn't a killer, no matter how many times they'd made her kill in her head.

A vision assaulted her, a man with a face she loved reduced to a body on the floor. Elizabeth stumbled and felt their admonishment. Felt their warning that any mistake on her part, no matter how small, would simply not be tolerated.

Her actions when they reached the hive were mechanical, memorised out of necessity and performed with a sense of duty instead of the pride – even relish – of those she fought beside. The Wraith came in their dozens but fell, no match for the team of Replicators sent to complete this massacre.

So intent was she on fulfilling her task, on performing to the best of her ability to ensure no punishment could be given, Elizabeth didn't notice the half-open pouches around her, the bodies of those kept near the brink of death.

She didn't notice those who had tried to claw their way out and died in the attempt, nor did she notice the remains of those who'd been killed by Wraith desperate to heal themselves, to make themselves strong again, as the Replicator assault continued.

She didn't notice their faces, not until one of them spoke her name.

"Elizabeth..."

She turned, the weapon in her hand recharging automatically.

The wizened face of John Sheppard stared back at her, eyes begging, pleading... For what? Death?

"No..." The hand holding the weapon trembled as she took a step forward, ignoring the sharp reprimand delivered via feelings of anger and fury. "John..."

She took a step closer to him, to do what she didn't know... There wasn't much she could do; the man she'd known was half-dead and the Replicators would only finish the job if they were to realise he was there...

A Wraith appeared suddenly, between them. Her reaction was instantaneous, instinctive.

The weapon in her hand fired just before the illusion disappeared, a Wraith trick she should have known better than to fall for.

Her aim had been true, and hit the target behind the imagined enemy.

The weapon fell from her hand to the floor, her body following as her knees crumbled under her own weight.

She watched him die, a man made old before his time, and wept as all around her the Wraith fell, their reign of terror giving way to that of a new, unbeatable enemy.

---

He watched her sleep and started to leave her, only to be stopped by the sound of his name torn from her lips in a devastated sob.

John froze, his back to her. He listened to her breathing, realised she was still asleep, and only then turned back to resume his surveillance.

Her face was pale and lined with pain. Her brow furrowed as tears slid down her cheeks and were absorbed by the pillow beneath her cheek, her dark hair a tangled mess around her face and shoulders. Her hands were clenched into fists, as if ready to strike some unseen enemy but remained lowered at her sides.

The look on her face changed and broke his heart.

He'd never seen Elizabeth look afraid before. Not even when he'd left her there, with them.

Unable to stand the sight of the fear on her face, John covered the distance between them in three short strides. He knelt beside her bed and brushed the hair back from her face, one hand lingering near her cheek as the other found one of hers and tangled their fingers together.

"You're safe now, Elizabeth," he murmured, watching the lines marring her brow grow deeper in confusion. "You made it home, back to Atlantis. You're safe now and I won't let anything hurt you again."

For a moment, her body tensed. John froze again, certain the sound of his voice had woken her. He relaxed when she did, a soft sigh the only sound that escaped her as she burrowed further into the cocoon of blankets and sheets she'd created, her hand still held securely in his.

He knew he couldn't leave without disturbing her, knew she'd wake the moment he tried to free his hand from hers. He also knew she needed the rest, her body still fighting a battle she believed was mostly won.

"I'm here, Elizabeth. I'm still here." Shifting as best as he could to make himself more comfortable without waking her, John let his head rest against the mattress near their joint hands. He closed his eyes, telling himself he'd just rest them for a minute and slowly drifted off to sleep.

---

It was going to be big. Huge, even. Doctor Rodney McKay was momentarily distracted from the project that had consumed most of his waking hours for over a week by the data on the small screen handed to him by Radek Zelenka.

"It's bad," Sam surmised, lips pursed as she glanced between two of the top scientists Atlantis had to offer. "I'm no weather girl but I know it's bad. The question I need you guys to answer is what do we need to do to minimise the damage to Atlantis and have we got enough time to do it?"

For a brief, terrifying moment, his mind went completely blank. He remembered Koyla yelling, Elizabeth's quiet and controlled voice trembling under duress and Sheppard taking on the Genii soldiers almost completely on his own in his determination to save the city and avenge the leader he thought was dead.

"Say goodbye to Doctor Weir."

"McKay?"

"Rodney."

The concern and slight edge in their voices jolted him back to the present and McKay glanced down again at the pad clutched in his hands. "We'll need to divert all available power to the shields – that means shutting down any systems that aren't absolutely vital. Even then there might not be enough power left in the ZPM, especially not if you take into account wind velocity and the damage we've yet to repair to the outer towers and lower levels..."

"What if we confine all personnel to one or two areas – maybe just the main level – and strengthen the shields in those places?" Zelenka leaned over and entered a few commands, watching in relief as Rodney's calculations improved ever-so-slightly. "Living quarters, labs and the main tower... There's nothing that could be damaged too badly anywhere else...?"

"The jumper bay. We need to make sure it's kept both secured and accessible in the event of an emergency evacuation." Sam sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I've recalled all off-world teams and suspended gate travel, which should conserve some power. General O'Neill and the IOA, however, will still be arriving within the hour. There was nothing I could do to postpone; the IOA won't be dissuaded again."

"Maybe we should let them drown or get blown away," Keller muttered under her breath, drawing a wry grin from her commander and a look of surprise from the two scientists. "Just a suggestion."

"Doctor Keller, I'm going to need you and your team on standby," Sam instructed, an apologetic smile taking the edge off the order. "And I'm afraid finding a solution to Doctor Weir's condition is going to have to take a backseat until we get through this." She grimaced at being on the receiving end of such dark looks and lifted a hand to quell their protests. "As soon as we can be sure we're going to make it through the storm, your work can continue. Until then, I need you all to focus on keeping Atlantis afloat. Getting through this in one piece with minimal complications is our main priority right now. I don't like it but that's the way it has to be."

She left before they could argue, Zelenka following her a few minutes later muttering what McKay was sure weren't endearments under his breath.

"She's right," he muttered miserably. "Atlantis has to come first."

Keller nudged his shoulder companionably. "Only till this thing passes. Then we can concentrate on saving Doctor Weir."

The reassuring smile she threw him on her way out was welcome but did little to allay his fears about the oncoming storm. Why couldn't Atlantis for once experience some other form of extreme weather? A heat wave, perhaps, so all of the women on base had to strip down to skimpy vest tops and short shorts...

A vision of the botanist Katie Brown popped into his head suddenly and Rodney swallowed again, plucking at the collar of his suddenly uncomfortable uniform. Air conditioning was an essential system... right?

---

A good night's sleep always made her drowsy in the morning, especially when that good night came after several troubled ones. Elizabeth yawned and stretched before opening her eyes, lifting her arms above her head – well, one arm. The other refused to move.

Panic momentarily washed over her and her eyes flew open, half expecting to see the grinning face of a Replicator looming above her.

No such view greeted her. In fact, when she opened her eyes, it was to see the top of a very familiar dark head resting on her hand – on their hands, she corrected mentally. Drooling a little on them, too.

As if aware of her surprised scrutiny, John's head moved as he woke suddenly as if pulled from slumber by force. For a moment, she watched his confusion as he tried to figure out how he'd ended up facing her, curled up as close to her as he could be with him being on the floor and her in the bed.

"You were drooling."

The sound of her voice, of the amusement in it, had his head whipping around to face her. He gaped, momentarily wordless, and Elizabeth wondered if her hair really looked that bad before fully remembering the circumstances surrounding their situation. She tried to pull her hand away, feeling a flash of panic when his grip tightened on hers and made the escape impossible.

"John..."

"Elizabeth..." He drew out her name, rising to his knees with a small wince. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Distracted, she continued half-heartedly trying to free her hand. "Let go, John. Please."

"Nope." Still holding tight, John stood only to sit down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry for leaving you behind and not coming back for you. I'm sorry for not stopping y more often and for not being here for you since you got back but I'd really like the chance to make it up to you. If you'll let me."

She stopped struggling and simply stared at him, the heartfelt apology taking her aback. "You didn't leave me behind, John, I ordered you to go. I was the one who made that choice, not you."

"I shouldn't have left you." The anguish reflected in his eyes further softened her resolve to pull away. "I should have stayed and fought and got you home instead of leaving you on your own."

"You got your team home, completed the mission and followed the orders given to you." Elizabeth tightened her hand around his. "You did what you were supposed to do, John, what I wanted you to do. You did the right thing."

John lifted their joint hands to his face, trapping hers against his cheek. He couldn't believe she was sitting with him after everything she'd been through, trying to comfort him. "It doesn't feel like the right thing. I left you behind and that's something I'm not sure I can live with."

"Well, you're going to have to try. Believe me, John, I don't blame you." Her hand lingered for a second before slipping free of his, landing in her lap. She felt strangely bereft without the contact so settled for clasping her hands together. "As for everything else... I can't imagine it's been easy for you, having me show up out of the blue. I know a lot of people don't trust me and I can't blame..."

"I trust you. God, you can't think that's why..." Realisation dawned and horrified him. "I trust you completely," he stressed. "I really do."

She smiled, but it was a sad, strained smile that didn't reach her eyes. "The IOA don't. That's why they're coming here to question me."

"They're only coming here because Sam wouldn't let them take you away." John sat shoulder-to-shoulder with her, remembering Sam's words and able to see the truth in them now fear and fury no longer kept him blinded. "She's afraid of what they'd do if they got you back to Earth so wants to keep as much control over the situation as we can."

"She'd know," Elizabeth said softly. "She knows what it's like."

"To some degree, yeah," he agreed quietly, guiltily, as he'd never really thought about it before. "She's been good here. Not you by any stretch of the imagination, but she understands better than most."

Elizabeth smiled again. "I'm trying to imagine someone like Woolsey at the helm of Atlantis and failing miserably. I'm surprised they didn't send General O'Neill, though. He has more command experience..."

"I don't think the scientists or civilians would've been happy. Sam's a scientists and it was still dicey with her at the beginning." His face sobered and he looked at her solemnly. "None of us wanted her here. We all wanted a way to get you back."

Unable to respond verbally, Elizabeth could only smile at him, her cheeks growing warm under the intensity of his gaze. Side by side, they sat together in silence, so many things still left unsaid between them.

---

Richard Woolsey and two others she didn't recognise came through to represent the IOA's interests. She fixed a smile on her face as she started down the steps from the operations centre to the gateroom to meet them, a smile that became more genuine when the fourth member of the party stepped through the gate.

"Welcome to Atlantis," she greeted them, taking care to look at them all in turn before letting her gaze stray back to Jack – General O'Neill. "We've prepared guest quarters for you but I'm afraid the grand tour is unavailable until the approaching storm has passed. I'm afraid it's a little more serious than we first anticipated though I'm confident Atlantis will be just fine."

"Is Doctor Weir ready for questioning?" One of the strangers, a brunette woman in a charcoal grey suit that looked extremely out of place, demanded without preamble.

Sam gave the woman a brief glance but managed to keep her expression neutral for the most part. "Doctor Weir and Lt. Colonel Sheppard are currently getting something to eat in the commissary with Colonel Sheppard's team. As soon as you've settled into your quarters and are ready to start the debriefing, I'll contact them and ask them to meet us in the conference room."

"Is she under guard?" The other stranger, a grey-haired man who looked more than a little green around the gills, asked gruffly. He reminded her a little of the late Senator Kinsey and it was all Sam could do to stop herself from considering Keller's suggestion about what to do with their visitors. "I trust you haven't let her have free reign of the city, Colonel."

"She's with Colonel Sheppard, who I believe is armed." Sam shrugged a shoulder and turned to lead them from the room, sharing a brief look with Jack when she noticed him roll his eyes. "Doctor Weir is not believed to be a threat to this base, and she isn't a prisoner. She's a member of this expedition and it'd do you all well to remember that."

She could hear them muttering behind her but didn't care. She caught sight of Jack grinning out of the corner of her eye and felt, for the briefest of moments, his hand linger against the small of her back as she led them towards the personal quarters assigned to them.

Woolsey shot her a look when she showed him to his room, a half-apologetic, half-suspicious look she couldn't really decipher. She did, however, struggle to conceal a smirk when a clap of thunder caused the man to jump just as the doors closed between them.

"Sounds like quite a storm brewing up there." His tone was casual but to those who knew him well, there was a definite note of concern in Jack's voice.

"We're prepared for it," she murmured, hoping she sounded more reassuring than she felt. "As prepared as we can be," she added, showing the woman, Sophia Payton, and the man, Anthony Gordon, to rooms across the hall from one another. "Do you think you can find your way back or would you like us to wait until you're settled?"

"I have a photographic memory, Colonel Carter," Ms. Payton declared with an air of superiority. "I'm sure I can find the way."

Sam inclined her head and fought the urge to point out that the corridors all looked the same so a photographic memory would probably be little use. Instead, she accepted the response with a polite smile and continued on, not needing to check to see if Jack was still beside her.

They walked along the corridor, turned a corner, and down another corridor in friendly silence. Jack said nothing as she activated the control at one of the doors at the end of the hallway, following her into the room and letting the door slide shut behind them.

The bag he'd been carrying over his shoulder dropped unceremoniously to the floor just moments before she turned and was suddenly in his arms, her head against his shoulder as her own arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Jack let his cheek rest against her hair, his hands pressed to the small of her back, keeping her close.

"People will talk," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in his chest.

Sam gave an indelicate snort and lifted her head to look at him. "People started talking the moment I put a picture of us up in my office." She tilted her head to the side and lifted an eyebrow in question. "Unless you want to stay somewhere else...? I'm sure there are some available quarters next to Woolsey's..."

Warm lips against hers silenced her mid-sentence. Sam smiled into the kiss and lifted a hand to rest at the nape of his neck, fingers playing with the short hair there as she allowed herself a momentary break from the reality of life on Atlantis.

"Good answer," she murmured when she was able, a smile still playing on her lips. Reluctantly, she unwound her arms from around his neck and took a small half-step back – the only thing she could do with his hands still resting on her hips. "We should go before they wonder where we are."

With a glint in his eyes, Jack took a step forward, making up the distance she'd put between them with ease. "I'm sure they'll figure it out."

She smiled up at him, leaning into the hand that moved to cup her cheek. "Jack..."

"Sam." He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before letting his own rest against it. Her hands moved to his shoulders, whether to push him away or pull him close, neither was sure. "Three months," he murmured, his lips brushing hers almost teasingly. "Two weeks..." Another, slightly longer touch of lips.

"And four days," she finished with a sigh, returning the kiss he bestowed on her whole-heartedly. Their bodies swayed in time with imaginary music, a tune only they could hear as they slowly re-familiarised themselves with one another.

After too short a time, Jack reluctantly stepped back when he felt a slight pressure on his shoulders. He gazed at her flushed cheeks and slightly swollen mouth, and felt an intense wave of longing course through him when her eyes opened and locked with his.

The temptation to act on what he saw in her eyes was almost impossible to resist. If she hadn't turned away from him and strode determinedly towards the door, straightening her clothes as she went... Jack swallowed a groan at the subtle sway of her hips and straightened his own uniform jacket before following. They paused at the door and exchanged a long, telling look that quietly affirmed everything they didn't have time to say.

General O'Neill and Colonel Carter arrived in the operations centre less than ten minutes later, a respectable amount of distance between them and their command masks firmly in place.

---

She was surprised that she didn't mind the way John's team crowded around her as they walked from the commissary to the conference room; if anything, it was a comfort. Elizabeth found it easier to hold her head up high with them around her, knowing they – including a reluctant Ronon – were basically standing between her and everyone else. For the first time since walking back through the Stargate, she felt as though she might actually belong there.

Maybe she could start to call it home again, too.

There was still something off, something not quite right. She was by no means stupid; she knew these people, remembered them, and she knew when there was something they weren't telling her. Still, it was difficult to let it bother her too much when she finally felt like one of them again – and having the hand of the person on her left accidently brush against hers every so often as they walked was a nice distraction, too.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and smothered a smile at the determined expression on his face; she was glad she wouldn't be up against the IOA alone.

The nearer they got to the conference room, the heavier her legs seemed to get. Her heart began to pound in her chest and she squared her shoulders defiantly, telling herself that there were people on her side, good people she could count on...

... If only she could count herself as one of them.

Plagued with doubts and memories that weren't all her own and weren't all real, it was a strangely surreal situation to be in. Part of her felt as though she was existing in a dream, in one of the nicer illusions the Replicators had created for her before turning it on its head and twisting everything good and pure about it into a grotesque and disfigured nightmare.

"You will be fine, Elizabeth." The calm and soothing voice came from her right and, although Teyla made no move to touch her arm as she once would have done, it did succeed in calming her nerves to some degree.

Her resolved strengthened just a little bit more, Elizabeth acknowledged the sentiment behind the words with a small nod and timid smile. She straightened her back and tilted her chin upwards when she caught a glimpse of Colonel Carter hovering in the doorway of the conference room.

Across the distance between them, their eyes locked. She read the sympathy, understanding and underlying promise in the blue eyes staring back at her and felt the knot in her stomach ease.

No, she wasn't alone. It wouldn't be easy getting through the days and weeks ahead but at least she could be certain that she wasn't really alone.

The initial meeting went better than any of them had expected. Elizabeth sat at the table, flanked by John and Sam, who constantly reassured her with little glances, smiles and the occasional touch to her hand or arm. Even General O'Neill, who sat beside the blond Colonel grinned at her from time to time, or nodded in seeming approval at something she'd said.

Woolsey seemed to be the friendliest of the IOA bunch; then again, Elizabeth mused, he was the one she knew – and she had helped save his life on Atlantis the year before. Payton and Gordon, however... Well, Elizabeth had a feeling neither would be putting her or her allies on their Christmas card lists!

Anthony Gordon was a straight-laced bore, like many she'd met over the course of her time as a diplomat. He clearly saw everything in black and white with no option for anything in between and was as uncompromising as they came; he was right and as far as he was concerned, that was the end of it. He questioned her time and time again about what she'd learned about the Replicators – that they were lousy with guests, John had muttered at her side – and if she thought they had any tactical weaknesses they could exploit.

Sophia Payton... She wasn't sure what the cause was but she could sense some animosity between the brunette woman and the blond one at her side. Every time Payton asked a question – all throwing suspicion over Elizabeth's 'escape' and the apparent 'motives' of the Replicators who had, in her words, "let" Elizabeth escape – Colonel Carter did her best to deflect it. Oh, she allowed Elizabeth answer it initially but as soon as someone – Payton or Gordon – cast aspersions on what had been said in reply, Sam was there at her defence.

It was still clear that something was being left unsaid, though, and after an hour of relentless questioning, Elizabeth was beginning to suspect what it might be.

Dread coiled in her stomach and she glanced quickly to the side, making John start guiltily as he hurriedly masked his concern and supposedly became avidly interested in Woolsey's recap of what they'd discussed. She glanced to her other side and caught Colonel Carter's gaze, arching an eyebrow in silent question.

The Colonel bit her lip and looked away.

"Is there something I should know?" Elizabeth asked, her voice sounding impossibly loud and more than a little shrill above Woolsey's low tones. Silence descended over the group following her question and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair when it appeared the only ones able to maintain eye contact where the somehow smug looking representatives of the IOA. Turning in her chair, she stared at John's profile, willing him to look at her. "John? What is it?"

He turned his face towards her but still struggled to meet her gaze. His hands, she noticed, were clasped together tightly on the desk in front of him, short fingernails scoring lines in taut skin. "You know Doctor Keller ran tests when you came back..."

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "I'm not likely to forget anytime soon."

"Well, she... It looks like..." John faltered and glanced up. Looking at her – no, Elizabeth realised, looking passed her. She turned and caught Colonel Carter's gaze, watching the people either side of her complete a silent exchange before the woman beside her sighed and met her gaze.

"The Replicator nanites in your body are failing, Elizabeth. We don't know how but they're becoming inactive and somehow being absorbed into your body." Sam kept her voice even but Elizabeth sensed movement and glanced down momentarily to find General O'Neill's hand resting supportively on the other woman's arm. "They're eventually going to stop working altogether," Sam continued softly, "and we don't know what's going to happen when they do."

She sat back in her chair and stared fixedly at the top of the table in front of her, a million jumbled thoughts running through her mind. The nanites were what had saved her life, she knew. They'd made it possible for the Replicators to attempt to induct her into their society, to make her one of them. Weren't they also what was keeping her alive now...?

"I'm going to die," she said suddenly, the words echoing loudly in the otherwise silent room.

There was an awkward pause, but then Sam spoke gently, a touch of her hand against Elizabeth's arm. "We don't know that for sure. McKay and Doctor Keller are working on the problem. They think there might be a way to reprogramme the remaining nanites to repair the damage in your brain before it gets to that stage."

Elizabeth turned to face the blond Colonel again, hope warring with despair in her eyes. "But they're not sure they can do that or they would've done it the first time this happened." She licked her suddenly dry lips and pressed a hand to her churning stomach, another thought occurring to her. "Rodney said he would be working constantly on keeping Atlantis safe during the storm – that's not going to leave him with much time for anything else."

"For a the next day or so, he'll be focusing his efforts elsewhere but I promise you, Elizabeth, the moment we can be sure Atlantis is going to get through this, McKay, Keller, Zelenka and everyone else who might be able to contribute will be making it their priority." Sam's hand tightened on her arm and Elizabeth found herself looking down at it curiously. "We're not going to lose you again. I give you my word on that."

For a long, tense moment, the two women regarded one another solemnly. They'd shared the same burden once, the same role and responsibilities. They'd both been to hell and back and survived against impossible odds; what reason did Sam have to lie to her, Elizabeth wondered, and what reason did she have not to believe the determined woman who'd defied the laws of science and convention before would succeed in doing it again to keep her promise?

"I need a minute," Elizabeth mumbled, breaking the contact with a sigh. "I need to get out of here..."

"I'll take you," John offered quietly, his chair already pushed back before Elizabeth stopped him.

"No." She glanced at him briefly, saw the hurt flash on his face but shook her head. "I can't... You should've told me, John. I need space away from you, too."

Sam cleared her throat and pulled her arm free of Jack's gentle grip. "I wanted to do a final check of the lower levels if you want to come with me..."

A nod was all the response she got and with a quick look at Jack, Sam got to her feet and led Elizabeth out of the room, ignoring the protests she could hear being stated behind them. In silence, the two women made their way down to the lower level of the city, both lost in their own thoughts.

Less than five minutes after the doors of the transporter closed behind them, the city began to shake ominously. Sam and Elizabeth glanced at one another in horror as the shaking grew worse and worse only to subside into stillness almost as soon as it had begun.

A sickening sound like breaking glass shattered the illusion that it was all over.

"Is that...?" Elizabeth's eyes widened and she stared along the corridor at the large ornate window.

Ocean water pressed against it, slowly seeping through the cracks as the shield holding it together fluctuated once. Twice.

"I think we should..."

"Run!"

They tried the transporters first as the sound of steadily streaming water intensified. No response. Turning down a corridor, the two women entered one of the many maze-like hallways and frantically closed the door between them and the window, their relief short-lived when a steady trickle of water began to seep in both beneath and between the closed doors.

"This isn't good." Sam glanced at the pale woman standing beside her and at the mini waterfall spilling into the hallway. "This really, really isn't good."

---

Trapped.

The word reverberated around her head. She stared dumbly at the water that now lapped against her calves – a good three inches higher than it had been last time she'd checked. Sam closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe in deeply, quelling the rising – ha! – panic in her chest. It wasn't the first time she'd been in such a situation, she reminded herself harshly. She'd survived every other time and this would be no different.

Really.

"Are you sure, Rodney? There's no manual override?" The desperation she was beginning to feel was echoed in Elizabeth's voice and Sam opened her eyes to study the dark haired woman at her side. Was it her imagination or did Elizabeth look even paler...?

"None." The dejected tone rang in her ears, punctuated by a crackle of static. "It's a built-in safeguard. I can keep trying to override it but when we started to sink, the shields were automatically dropped in the less populated areas to provide more protection for the densely populated levels..."

"It just might take a few hours or so," John broke in, the "ow" in the background suggesting McKay's pessimism had been rewarded with a sharp nudge. "We'll have you out of there in no time."

Sam glanced down again at the cold – very, very cold – water still rising and frowned. "I don't know if we can give you a few hours. This water's rising pretty quick..."

"And it's cold," Elizabeth chimed in, crossing her arms over her chest to ward off a shiver she couldn't suppress. "Damn cold."

The next voice that sounded in Sam's ear forced her to bite back a sigh. She didn't know if it was better or worse knowing he was up there, knowing that if the worst did happen, they might have the chance to say goodbye. "Just hang in there, Carter. We're working on it."

"Work faster," Sam advised wryly. "Carter out." She disengaged her headset and looked at Elizabeth. "We should probably find somewhere we can climb," she murmured, "somewhere with access to another level in case McKay manages to override the lockdown."

"With high ceilings," Elizabeth added, casting a wary glance at their submerged legs. The water was just below their knees, signalling loud and clear that they didn't have a few hours to wait for McKay to achieve the impossible. Nowhere near as long.

Together, they waded through the freezing water, careful not to splash one another too much as they walked as close as they dared, both intent on finding a relatively safe place to wait in the rapidly flooding level.

---

His hands flew over the console, sweat gathering across his forehead. Outside, he could hear the wind howling around the city's towers as angry waves slapped against the straining shields.

He couldn't understand why the overrides weren't working, couldn't work out why the city's sensors hadn't picked up on their being two lifesigns in the lower levels before activating the defence mechanism.

Or maybe he'd been right first time, he reflected, and the artificial intelligence had decided that two lives were worth sacrificing in order to save dozens more.

There was no way it could've known that the two lives in question meant so much.

The two men pacing behind him did little to ease McKay's nerves; he glanced up at John to find the man staring into space, a lost expression on his face that seemed to suggest the Colonel had already given up on some level. He'd seen that expression before, once, when they'd been forced to leave Elizabeth behind with the Replicators and he'd sworn to himself that if he got the chance to make amends for letting her go, he would.

He'd do anything not to see that expression again.

As for the other man... Well, it'd taken him a long time to get it – longer than he cared to admit – but seeing the photograph of the smiling couple fishing and the look on General O'Neill's face now at the thought of never being able to see Sam again and he thought he'd pretty much figured it out: Sam and the General were together. A couple. Seeing each other – well, as much as a couple living in two different galaxies could.

He could kick himself for not seeing it sooner – and probably would as soon as he had the time.

It made him wonder, though, about Sam's assignment to Atlantis and he suddenly found himself bursting with questions he knew he'd never have the courage to ask, especially not of the General who glared at anyone who dared break the tense silence in the room as if warning them not to speak if they had nothing helpful to add.

Turning his attention back to the screen, McKay frowned. The shields remained stubbornly offline on Sam and Elizabeth's level. Not only that, but the transporters refused to work and the hatches between the level they were trapped on and the one above – the main level – remained sealed despite his best efforts.

"Maybe we should find a blowtorch." The suggestion came from behind him and while he didn't take it seriously, the way the pacing stopped suggested that the two military men waiting anxiously had. McKay kept his gaze fixed on the screens in front of him but listened as Major Lorne continued. "Get them to go to a hatch and we'll try blasting it open."

"If you want to start flooding this level, sure. You do that." McKay rolled his eyes. "Our priority is to stop the city from sinking and keep the flooding to a minimum."

"Our priority is to get them out of there before they drown." There was a note in the General's voice, a warning that McKay heard loud and clear.

McKay sighed. "I agree, but we can't risk flooding the populated areas to do that. You use a blowtorch and there'll be no way of sealing it. We need to open a hatch, get them out and be able to reseal it again otherwise we might as well drop the shields and take bets on what kills us first – the storm or sinking."

"As much as I hate to say it, McKay's right." John shrugged; McKay saw it reflected in his screen. "We need to find a way to get them up here without risking the city 'cause they'd kick our collective asses if we did that..."

As the tension was momentarily broken at the thought, McKay tuned out the background chatter and leaned closer to the screen. He'd called up a live map of the lower level, studying their lifesigns to try and figure out where they were heading and he'd thought he'd seen...

"Woah!" Pushing his chair back involuntarily into the General who still hovered close by, McKay got to his feet and stared with open eyes at the screen. "That... There's no one else unaccounted for, right? Everyone else is in one of the designated areas..."

John glanced to Lorne for confirmation, frowning when the Major nodded. "Yeah. Everyone's accounted for, Rodney."

McKay glanced at the screen again, the third lifesign giving out readings that were terrifying if not impossible. He edged closer to the console, almost as if he was afraid the lifesign would jump out at him, and gaped at the statistics running across the screen.

"I... I think we have a problem," he said, ignoring the questions coming at him from all directions. "I think we need to get them out of there. Soon. Really, really, really soon."

---

The doors wouldn't close behind them.

Both Sam and Elizabeth had tried, only to give up and continue on in their search for a room with high ceilings, a possible escape hatch and a high perch or ledge they could climb onto and wait for rescue.

They'd just found such a room – beneath the jumper bay – when they heard John's voice over the headset.

"Sam, Elizabeth, do you read?"

Sam sighed and dropped down to the floor, motioning for Elizabeth to continue climbing. "We read you, John. What's your status?"

"Ah... Same, really. Everyone up here's safe and accounted for. McKay's still working on getting you guys out of there but... We may have another problem."

"What kind of problem?" Elizabeth glanced down at her but Sam shook her head. "Keep climbing."

"You're climbing? Good. That's good. You both need to get somewhere really high, out of reach of the water."

Something in her stomach jolted and Sam cautiously put a foot in one of the hollows of the wall and reached up to grab onto a small jutting edge with a hand. Easing herself off the floor, she sighed when cold water ran down her legs to her still submerged feet. "We're trying but talking and climbing at the same time isn't easy. Is there any particular reason...?"

"You're not alone down there, Carter. Get out of the water now. Get back to us when you're clear. That's an order."

The edge in his voice surprised her as much as his words confused her. Sam glanced up at Elizabeth, who was climbing over the railing onto the small platform beneath the hatch and wondered if there was enough space for both of them up there. It was a small shelf jutting out of the wall for maintenance purposes, she imagined, not designed for two fully grown women to sit for an undetermined amount of time. She wondered fleetingly if it would hold both of their weight but chided herself for letting the thought distract her and slowly made her way up and out of the water, hands and feet feeling blindly for any grooves or crevices that would make the climb easier.

She made it up onto the ledge and, after shifting around for a while, both she and Elizabeth were able to fit comfortably with their legs hanging over the edge, the railing thankfully preventing either of them from falling. She stared down at the water, stiffening her spine against a shiver as frothy water continued to spill into the room.

"Command, this is Colonel Carter. We're both out of the water, as ordered."

"Good. Make sure it stays that way." The words were said on a sigh of relief. "McKay detected another lifesign on your level. Based on the readings we're getting and the expert opinions of the biologists, it'd appear the snakes from the mainland have a water-based counterpart."

"What he means is that there's a sea snake in Atlantis and if these readings are anything to go by, it's big. Big and mean and ugly. Probably."

Sam didn't know whether to laugh or cry; snakes were not her favourite thing. She personally blamed years of fighting the Goa'uld, though suspected she could probably retrace the phobia to the grass snake Mark had hidden in her schoolbag when she was eight.

Beside her, Elizabeth pulled up her legs as much as she could, an automatic reaction. "There are snakes on the mainland?" She asked, an eyebrow arched. "Since when...?"

For a second, Sam frowned at the question, then remembered with a jolt just where Elizabeth had been when the decision to land Atlantis on its new homeworld had been made. "We're on M35-117. When we were looking for a new planet to base Atlantis, McKay chose one from the secondary list..."

"So the Replicators wouldn't be able to locate you given they had free access to my mind." Elizabeth grimaced and looked away. "I vaguely remember it. We almost lost a team when we discovered it wasn't as uninhabited as we'd thought... Giant snake-like creature, lots of teeth... Very fast acting venom that would've killed Lieutenant Armstrong if Teyla hadn't known of an antidote."

"That would unfortunately be the one," Sam mumbled, drawing her own feet back onto the ledge. It made for a very cramped and uncomfortable position but was preferable to feeling exposed. Cautiously, she peered down at the water between the railings, wishing it wasn't so white and frothy. "Can you track it?" She asked over the radio. "Can you see where it is now?"

"Unfortunately, the sensors on that level are being affected by the water. One minute we can track it, the next it's gone from sight. So far it seems to be fixated on the opposite side of the city but it moves fast. As long as you keep out of the water, you should be fine."

"Any progress on getting us out of here, Rodney?" Elizabeth asked quietly, her arms wrapped securely around her legs so her chin could rest on her knees. "It's cold."

Sam looked at her companion – really looked at her – and bit her lip at the sight of Elizabeth's pale face. She glanced at Elizabeth's lips and thought they looked a little too pale, a little too purple to be healthy. "Are you okay?" She asked quietly, careful not to let her concern shown over the radio by smothering the mouthpiece with her hand.

Elizabeth tried to smile but found her lips wouldn't cooperate. She shivered and tightened her arms around her, her eyelids feeling heavy. "I'm tired," she answered, taking care to prevent slurring by pronouncing each word slowly. "Head feels a bit fuzzy."

Worried but trying not to let it show, Sam gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Why don't you try and get some sleep? It's been a long day for you and all we're really doing is sitting here..." She crossed her fingers mentally and nearly sighed with relief when Elizabeth nodded, shifting back to rest her head against the wall.

Almost instantly, the dark haired woman fell into a fitful sleep, the speed in which she did so alarming Sam even more.

"Carter? You still there?"

The brusque tone would've made her smile if not for the dire situation they were in. Careful not to disturb Elizabeth, Sam turned away to speak quietly into her headset. "I'm here. I need to speak to Doctor Keller. Can you patch me through?"

"I'm here in the Ops Centre, Colonel. Is everything okay?"

Sam hesitated and bit her lip. "Elizabeth isn't feeling so good. She's resting but she's really feeling the cold."

There was a momentary pause and Sam could easily imagine the panic her words had created amongst those working on the problem. "It could be the onset of the nanites breaking down, or just a side effect of the cold. Both of you will need to be careful; the temps we're getting on the sensors for your level are dangerously low. Keep close together – there's not a lot you can do but share body heat. I'd suggest you go look for some blankets but..."

"But we're not supposed to go in the water," Sam finished with a grimace. She heard a small whimper from beside her and shifted to get a glimpse of Elizabeth's face. Were her lips bluer...? Her military training kicking in, Sam made short work of divesting herself of her uniform jacket, draping it over the sleeping woman and tucking it in at the edges as much as she could without waking her.

Throughout her ministrations, Elizabeth barely stirred.

"Okay, guys, what else is down on this level?" She waited for a moment for a reply, getting the impression her voice had interrupted an important conversation she was being left out of. "Anyone there?"

"We're here, just running through a few suggestions." The casualness to John's voice was evidently forced. "There are a few store rooms, unused labs and quarters...Why'd you want to know?"

"I'm going to see what I can find to keep us both warm. And to see if there's anything we can use to buy ourselves more time." Sam glanced down at the wall she'd climbed up, wondering if it'd just be easier to jump down and hope the water at the bottom was deep enough to keep her from hurting herself. "McKay? Do you think you could give me directions?"

"Sure, but..."

"You're not going anywhere, Carter. Don't be stupid. We have no way of knowing what thing's capable of..."

"Exactly." Sam smiled, though there was no victory in it. "We don't know if it'll attack or swim on by without bothering me." She let her voice soften deliberately. "We're going to need supplies. We'll freeze if we don't get something else up here and if I don't go now, there'll be no point in going at all because the water will be too high to wade through and whatever I find will get wet, too. I can't sit here and wait to drown, Jack. I can't do nothing and let Elizabeth die."

There was a long pause, a moment of silence she knew too well. She could picture him perfectly in her mind, the image one she'd seen before. She could see the look on his face, the half-closed eyes and clenched jaw as he realised there was no other choice.

"You'll stay in radio contact the entire time."

"Agreed." She glanced at the woman curled up beside her and sighed. "McKay, can you get the intercom working in this room only? I want someone to monitor Doctor Weir at all times. If she wakes up, you'll need some way of keeping her updated. Maybe patch it through to someone's personal headset so they can keep talking to her..."

The hint was there, she figured; it was up to them to figure it out.

Steeling herself for her return into the cold water, Sam flexed her fingers in an attempt at warming them up enough to grip the makeshift handholds in the wall. She eased herself over the platform and slowly began to make her way down, feet slipping more than once leaving her clinging perilously by numb fingertips.

Halfway down, her fingers decided to stop cooperating and she found herself clinging to the wall, unable to get her hands to move. Cursing under her breath, she let her forehead rest against the wall.

"Everything okay, Carter?"

The worry was unmistakable and she reminded herself that everything she said would be transmitted back to the ops centre and the team gathered there. "I'm okay. Just cold." She inhaled sharply and glanced down, trying to prepare herself for the sudden wave of vertigo but unable to stop her head from spinning. "Only one thing for it," she muttered to herself, gritting her teeth in determination.

"Carter? What's going --"

The rest of his question disappeared as she pried numb fingers away from the wall and let herself fall, taking a deep breath that left her lungs in an instant as the cold water below suddenly became the cold water breaking her fall. Her legs protested at the sudden jolt of hard ground beneath them and she gasped when the effort of keeping her back straight – keeping her head out of the water – caused her muscles to spasm.

"Carter?!"

"Sam?"

"Sorry about that," she muttered through ground teeth, wrapping her bare arms around herself in a futile attempt at warding off the shivers wracking her body. "Had to jump." She smiled humourlessly at the response of the General in the ops centre. "I'm going to leave the room now, McKay, so now would be a good time to get someone on the comm. for Elizabeth."

"I'm patching through the open comm. line of the room to Colonel Sheppard's headset. If – when – Elizabeth wakes up, she should be able to hear him and vice-versa."

Sam's smile warmed a little bit; the only part of her that did. "Good. Now do I go left or right?"

---

People swarmed around her like ghosts, their forms bathed in a gentle white light. They encircled her, mouths forming silent words she strained so hard to hear but which were whispered far too quietly for the human ear.

Phantom hands reached out, fingertips trailing across her skin; Elizabeth shivered but no longer felt the cold.

"Who are you? What are you?"

The creatures remained silent but one of the seemed to smile at her, breaking away lightly from the others who continued to walk around her in slow, hypnotic circles.

"Where am I?"

The being tilted its head to the side, sadness shrouding its features.

"Am I... Am I dying...?"

Silence, absolute silence.

"Answer me!"

The one who stood out from the rest advanced on her, its features clearing enough so that she could vaguely make out the masculine lines of his face. He reached out for her and she took a step back, wariness etched into her features.

The creature stopped and smiled again, a sad, sympathetic smile. It – he – approached her again and though she tried to move, Elizabeth found she couldn't. She was frozen, her body following commands that weren't her own.

Panic built up inside her; was it the Replicators...? Where they somehow messing with her mind again...?

The creature's hand moved out to touch her and she prepared herself for the mental invasion, for the pain and the manipulation she thought she knew was coming.

Warm fingers wrapped around her wrist, the touch gentle and almost soothing.

"Do not fear us, Elizabeth Weir. We are here to help."

---

"Elizabeth? I don't know if you can hear me but we're doing all we can to get you out of there, okay? Sam's gone to get something to keep you guys warm but we're doing everything we can. We won't let you down." John took a deep breath and released it on a sigh, his hands clenched where they rested on the desk in front of him. "I won't let you down."

He looked up when the door opened, an eyebrow raising when General O'Neill walked in. He lifted a hand to disengage the mike of his headset only to change his mind – he didn't want her to wake up to silence.

"General."

"Colonel." The tension rolled off the older man in waves.

John noticed the way Jack tilted his head to the side every so often, listening intently to his own newly acquired headset. Glancing passed the General, he saw McKay reading out directions and figured the man in front of him was only really paying attention when the woman on the other end was speaking."How's she doing? Sam?"

Jack shrugged, his eyes scanning the bookshelves behind John's head. "Okay. Says she's cold." He moved forward, either unaware or unaffected by John's scrutiny. A small smile played on his lips and John got up from his chair, turning to watch the General pick up one of the photographs that had adorned the bookshelf ever since it'd become Sam Carter's office. "She said she'd put this here. Didn't think she'd really done it."

"It's not a secret." John lifted a shoulder awkwardly when his words caused Jack's attention to shift from the photograph in his hand to him. "I mean, she hasn't made a city-wide announcement but it's not like she's ashamed of it."

A myriad of emotions passed over Jack's face, accumulating in a small grin, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards for a moment. A finger passed over the photograph – over Sam's face, John guessed, though couldn't see due to the angle it was being held at – and the smile faded into a grim line. "You get anything from Doctor Weir?"

Momentarily taken aback at the swift change in subject – and at the subtle change in Jack's demeanour – John found himself watching wordlessly as the photograph was replaced with reverence. "She's not responding," he said eventually. "I think she's still out of it."

"Keep talking to her," Jack advised quietly. His brown eyes locked on John's, an almost knowing expression on his face that intensified when John glanced away uncomfortably. "It might help."

John hoped so but the sceptic in him refused to let him believe it was true. He opened his mouth to speak, to say something to diffuse the tension rapidly building in the room but one glimpse of the General's face had him closing it again.

Jack O'Neill wasn't stupid; he would never have made the rank of General if he was. He glanced back at the photograph before wandering to the other side of the desk, taking a seat and motioning for John to do the same thing. "It's hard," he said after a long pause, "knowing she's stuck there and there's not a damn thing you can do about it."

Unsure as to whom they were talking about, John merely took his seat and gave a small nod of agreement. "Frustrating as hell," he agreed quietly.

"McKay's smart," Jack continued, his gaze wandering around the office. "Almost as smart as Carter, so I'm pretty sure he'll figure it out."

John, ordinarily, would have agreed readily. It wasn't so easy, he found, when it was Elizabeth's life at stake. "And if he doesn't?" He queried with a lifted eyebrow. "If he doesn't figure it out and the level floods...?"

Jack's eyes met his. A look was shared, a long, knowing look that said far more than either man was comfortable with it saying. "Then we go back to plan A. We use the blowtorches. Take the risk. Either way, we won't let them down."

Opening his mouth to speak – to say 'thanks' or ask how Jack did it, how he could somehow hold it together when the woman he, John assumed, loved was in danger – John once again was interrupted by the look that flashed over the General's features.

Fear.

In an instant, the fear was gone, replaced swiftly by determination as Jack turned on his heel and strode out of the room, into the ops centre where John could see McKay was waving frantically at the screen.

"Hold on, Elizabeth," he murmured into the headset, eyes fixed on the wordless scene playing out in front of him as dread coiled in his stomach. "You've got to hold on. We haven't come this far just to lose you again, okay? I promise. I'll find a way to get to you. Just hold on."

---

"It's coming towards you, Sam – and its fast."

Sam froze and narrowed her eyes, scouring the mostly clear water now just above waist level. "I can't see anything out of the ordinary," she said quietly, staring down at her own distorted feet. "Are you sure it's heading my way?"

"Positive – God, this thing is BIG!"

The awestruck fear in McKay's voice wasn't helping her nerves but before she could say anything, she heard Jack's voice in the background, berating the Head of Science for his lack of tact.

"You still there, Carter?"

"Where else would I be?" She muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. "I'm still here," she said louder. "Can't see anything." She paused for a moment, listening intently. All she could hear was the consistently running water, spilling from one flooded section into another. "Look, I'm going to have to keep going. If I stand still much longer, I'll lose the feeling in my feet. Which way do I go, McKay? There's a doorway on my left or I can keep going and turn right."

"Ah... I don't... The doorway. Go through the doorway and try to shut it behind you. Its coming, Sam. It's gonna be there soon."

"Get in the room and get out of the water, Carter. That's an order."

The order was delivered with the same deadly calm she'd heard time and time again in the middle of combat out in the field; it worried her more than any sign of panic would. Trudging through the water as quickly as she could with sodden clothes that clung to her legs and weighed them down, Sam tried to shut the door behind her, managing to get it half-closed before giving up at the insistent voices in her ear.

She saw a shelving unit in the corner of the room, old and unused if the layers of dust were anything to go by and hoped it was sturdier than it looked. "Okay, guys, I'm about to start climbing again. Requesting radio silence unless you see it again – don't distract me, okay?"

She took their silence to be their assent and began her climb. She tugged experimentally on the first shelf at shoulder level, testing to see how heavy the structure was. It shook a little under the pressure but, to her relief, remained upright against the wall. Not fixed, though, she noted with a small sigh.

Pulling herself up, she stood on the bottom shelf and reached for the next shelf, just above her head. Even as she reached for it, she heard the exclamations through her earpiece, the warnings to get herself higher faster.

Even as her numb fingers gripped the thin panel, she became aware of the gentle hiss that filled the room.

"Carter... Sam..."

Sam closed her eyes and held her breath; she didn't dare move, not even to turn her head to the side. She didn't want to look, didn't want to hear what McKay was describing to someone in the ops centre.

Didn't want to focus on anything but keeping absolutely completely still.

A soft splash from behind her caused her eyes to open. Sam stared at the wall just visible between the shelves and took half a breath before glancing down at her feet. Her hands trembled when she saw the shadow beneath the surface just a few feet away from her still submerged feet.

The water almost reached her knees. Two more shelves, she calculated, just two more and she'd be completely clear of the water.

The shadow moved as she watched, winding its way through the water.

Away from her.

She remained still for a few more moments, clinging to the unit for as long as possible until she started to fear her fingers would release it of their own accord. It was a risk, one she decided she had to take.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, not entirely sure what she was apologising for.

Biting her lip, ignoring the sudden return of voices in her ear, Sam reached tentatively for the next shelf up. A strained smile curved her mouth when cold fingers wrapped around it and she used it to pull herself up.

One more step and she'd be out of the water. One more step and she'd be –

An ominous creak drowned out the hissing sound behind her. Panic surged through her as the structure she was clinging onto shifted and the world as she knew it began to tip on its side.

She was struck across the forehead in the same instant her body hit the water, darkness encroaching on the horrifying vision of long, sharp fangs.

---

"I don't want to ascend." Her voice wavered but her expression was stern. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared warily at the man – Ancient – apparently standing in front of her.

They weren't in Atlantis anymore, or at least not the Atlantis she knew. He'd taken her back to a time when the Ancient's were the city's rightful occupants, when the walls hummed with a vibrancy and vitality Elizabeth had never seen before.

In her mind, at least. Physically, she knew her body was in the rapidly filling room and with dropping temperatures and rising danger.

"We are not here to force you into anything, Elizabeth." The Ancient gave her a patient smile. "Nor do we wish to force you to leave your people at this time. There is much you need to do here before such a thing can occur."

Her eyes narrowed and her hands gripped her arms. She glanced behind her at the wordless faces of those carrying on with their daily duties around her, apparently without a care in the world.

Apparently not knowing what the future had in store for them.

"We are not really here, Elizabeth. What you see is a manifestation of the past, an image your mind has conjured to help make you more comfortable with this meeting."

"Why me?" Her head tilted to the side, Elizabeth studied him carefully. "Why have you chosen to talk to me?"

The Ancient smiled again, a touch of sadness on his face. "Partly because you have need of us, partly because there is much you have to offer that you cannot imagine. There is potential within you, Elizabeth Weir. Potential that may be instrumental in defeating the Replicators once and for all."

Her scepticism must have shown on her face because the Ancient laughed, a strange sound that made her think he wasn't used to laughing anymore. Her gaze slid over his face and she noticed for the first time that there were lines and shadows marring the otherwise youthful complexion.

"What is it exactly that you're offering?" Still wary but more than a little tempted, Elizabeth let her arms drop to her sides. "And what exactly do you want in return?"

"We are offering you a solution, the chance to heal. We will assist your body in repairing the damage it has suffered and ensure that you return to your people as the person you once were. I believe this will help remove the suspicion currently surrounding you and guarantee that you may remain on Atlantis." The Ancient took a step closer, stopping when the wariness reappeared on her face. "In exchange, we would ask that you remember our intervention. There will be a point in the future when we appear to you again, Elizabeth, and we will need you to trust us, to help your people trust us so that together, we may accomplish our mutual goals."

Her hands clenched at her sides but she refused to give in to the urge to cross her arms over her chest again. "If I don't agree...? Will you just let me die?"

The Ancient sighed. "I would have no choice. It is not without some protest that I have been allowed to approach you and make this offer. It is only because we know that your knowledge of the Replicators, knowledge you are not aware you have, will become vital in our success against them that I have been permitted to appear to you now..."

Doubt once again raising its ugly head, Elizabeth sighed. She lifted a hand to her forehead, wondering how she could be getting a headache when she was existing within her head. "I don't know how much intel I can provide you or anyone else with. I've already told the IOA everything I know, and Colonel Carter knows what it's like to be a captive of them so she could probably fill in the blanks... What? What is it?"

Something indescribable passed over the Ancient's features. "Colonel Carter is dying," the Ancient informed her after a hesitant pause. "She ventured into the water to find something to assist you and was attacked by the sea creature dwelling in these waters. She will not live without assistance and your people will not reach her in time."

It took a moment or two for his words to sink in. Elizabeth found herself wrapping her arms around her body again, biting down on her bottom lip as her mind processed their meaning. "Is there anything you can do...?"

"Personally?" His eyebrow arched and he looked at her meaningfully. "No."

"Is there anything I could do?" She asked quietly, both knowing and dreading his answer.

"Accept our offer of help and you can assist Samantha Carter until help arrives," the Ancient answered smoothly. "If you are to succeed in saving Atlantis in the future, you will need her help."

Seconds ticked by as her mind raced, struggling to keep up. "This isn't a trick?"

The Ancient shook his head. "I give you my word."

She took a deep breath and let her arms drop to her side again, forcing herself to take a step forward before she could reconsider and change her mind. "Then do what you have to do. When the time comes, I'll do what I can to help your cause with my people."

"You have chosen wisely, Elizabeth Weir, and I assure you it will not be a decision you regret."

He approached her before she could respond, before she could change her mind or ask another question. His hands were warm when they took hers, and the familiar pins and needles sensation spread from her fingertips throughout her body as white glow so pure it colour that it hurt her eyes enveloped them.

Bright, dazzling colours in every spectrum of the rainbow assaulted her vision until she was forced to close her eyes and give in to the overwhelming feelings assailing her mind.

---

"Carter? Damn it, Sam!" He was holding on with his fingertips, a desperate man hovering so close to the edge. There'd been nothing since the splash of water and the burst of static that had followed. Nothing at all. McKay assured him the headsets were waterproof, that if she'd managed to hold on to it and resurface, it should have still transmitted a signal.

His eyes were fixed to the lifesign reading on the screen, and his heart all but stopped when it disappeared.

"Oh my god," McKay muttered, frantically punching in commands on the console in front of him. "Oh my god."

"McKay."The word was ground out between teeth so tightly clenched it hurt. His hands were fists, ready and willing to strike out at anyone, anything, if it would get her back.

A few more muffled curses, a few more agonising seconds.

There was a collective sigh of relief when the lifesign reappeared, a little fainter than before but glorious simply because it was there.

"Tell me that's Carter," Jack instructed, his voice dangerously low. Dangerously close to breaking. He glanced up when he sensed someone hovering beside him and found himself face to face with a pale John Sheppard.

The Lieutenant Colonel stared at him through worried eyes. "Is Sam...?"

"Alive," McKay answered them both, his own sigh of relief lost in theirs. "She's alive, and I can't see the sea snake anywhere in the vicinity anymore. It's gone somewhere else." The scientist glanced up and saw something on the General's face that gave him reason to pause. "I think we should work on getting them out of there as soon as possible," he said eventually, his expression solemn. "If the venom of the sea snake is anything as potent as those on the mainland..."

"She doesn't have a lot of time, I know. I read the report." Shoulders tensed so much he could feel the ache in his muscles, Jack half-turned to Doctor Keller and Major Lorne, both of whom were standing awaiting orders. "Doctor, get the antidote ready. Major, get the blowtorches." He glanced back at McKay, arching an eyebrow in response to any protest the scientist was about to make. "Neither Carter or Doctor Weir have much time. We'll get them out, you figure out how to get the city back above the surface." He turned away without waiting for a response, staring at Lorne's retreating back with an unreadable expression on his face.

Doctor Keller hesitated before speaking, biting her lip nervously before reluctantly drawing attention to herself. "General, if I may... I'd like to get Teyla involved in preparing the antidote. She's encountered something like this before and, from what I understand, the formula is incredibly sensitive..."

Jack stared at her for a few seconds, his brow furrowed as though he'd never seen her before. After a pause, he waved a hand at her and nodded. "Get whatever and whoever you need, Doc."

"Teyla and Ronon are in the mess hall keeping the IOA idiots busy," John told her, seeing the question in her eyes. "They both helped Lieutenant Armstrong so should be able to help you help Sam."

Doctor Keller thanked him with a nod and small smile before turning smartly on her heel and disappearing from the room, almost colliding with Lorne, who was quickly approaching with one of the biggest blowtorches John had ever seen.

Jack straightened at the sight, his expression one of pure resolve. "Someone get this headset linked up to Carter's. I want to know when she's back in radio contact." He strode away without waiting to see the order followed through, meeting Major Lorne in the middle of the room, unsurprised when John moved to join them. "You know which escape hatch we need to open?"

Major Lorne gave a short nod. "Yes, Sir."

A pause while Jack accepted the headset a nervous tech handed to him. "Let's go get them out of there."

The three men strode out of the room, their steps determined. McKay watched them leave, then turned back to the display in front of him. With a great deal of reluctance, he shrank the screen showing Sam and Elizabeth's lifesigns so that it only took up part of the display, focusing on the technical code of the manual override on the main screen.

He had no choice but to let the men of action save the two women who'd come to mean so much to him but saving the city was his domain.

At least, he hoped it was.

---

She woke up with a start, the sheer volume of noise resonating above her head causing her to be disorientated. She recognised the blue-green walls of the city and wondered – hoped – for a moment that the whole thing had been one horrible nightmare.

One glance down at the ground told her otherwise and she shivered at the sight of the water level; how long had she been unconscious...?

Elizabeth frowned as she looked down at her hands, surprised to find they were completely steady. She felt fine; better than fine.

She felt more alive, more human, than she had done in a long time.

A small smile began to play on her lips, one of relief and hope. It lasted until her mind provided her with details of how she'd become to feel so well and then it was replaced with grim determination.

Easing herself forward until her legs dangled off the platform, Elizabeth twisted her body until she could hold onto it and find a foothold on the wall. She couldn't really remember climbing up it, still in shock, she mused, at finding out she was dying.

Climbing down was a lot harder than she thought it would be and it took all of her concentration not to fall when her feet slipped once or twice during her descent. The feel of cold water against her skin through the material of her clothes was both a shock and a relief and she eased herself down until her feet touched the ground.

"I can do this," she mumbled, taking a few hesitate steps before deciding it would be easier if she swam given that the water was almost at her shoulders. "I can do this."

Taking a deep breath, she submerged herself into the freezing water, hoping her instincts would succeed in guiding her to the right place.

Above, the sound of the blowtorch stopped for a brief moment as John listened intently to his head piece. After a few tense moments, he shook his head, signalling for Jack to continue.

Telling himself the voice he'd heard must have been his imagination and nothing more.

---

It was the sensation of cold water against her cheek that woke her. That, the noise in her head and the unrelenting pressure on her left foot.

She gasped and struggled to scramble to the surface, the water dangerously close to covering her mouth. It was only when the pressure over her foot transformed into pain that she realised there was something keeping her from moving upwards.

In slow flashbacks, the memories came back to her and she looked around, arms flailing in the rising water. Her head sank below the surface in her panic and she came up spluttering, gasping for air.

She was alone; she pretty sure she was alone.

Sam tried to glance down at her body to see if and where she'd been injured but the combination of the shelving unit pinning her down and the need to keep her head back so her face was out of the water hindered her efforts and, added to that, was the fact that she was so cold she was beginning to go numb.

Slowly, careful not to jolt herself too much, she glanced around herself, straining to see through the clear water to the ground below.

It was then that she saw the blood, a red mist in the otherwise clear water coming from somewhere behind her.

"Oh, god..."

"Carter!"

It took her a moment to realise where the voices were coming from, her mind unusually sluggish. She closed her eyes and tried to lift a hand to straighten the headset, alarmed when the strangely heavy limb refused to cooperate.

"I'm here," she managed between chattering teeth, eyes opening to stare up at the ceiling. "Not sure for how long..."

"Damn it, Sam. You scared ten years off my life."

She tried to smile but found a tear escaping from her eye instead, the hot droplet sliding down her face into the cold salty water around her. "Status report...?"

There was a loud clanging noise in the background, followed by a muffled curse. She realised dimly that the noise she'd heard when she first woke up hadn't been entirely in her mind and wondered why it'd taken so long for her brain to process that fact.

"We're working on a solution," came the eventual, evasive answer. "Just stay put and we'll be with you soon."

Closing her eyes, Sam tilted her head back as much as she could. "That won't be a problem, given that I can't exactly go anywhere."

"What do you mean? Are you hurt..?"

"My foot is trapped and the water's soon going to be above my head," she replied after a short pause. She decided not to mention the blood she'd spotted in the water, or her suspicion that the burning sensation in her shoulder was more to do with the now-absent reptile and not bruised muscles as she'd first thought. Not wanting either of them to dwell on it, Sam deftly changed the subject and opened her eyes to stare up at the ceiling. "How's Elizabeth? Has John managed to reach her...?"

Another pause, which she took to mean bad news.

"Elizabeth's not responding to his attempts at contacting her. We think she's still unconscious but we'll know more as soon as we get this damn hatch open."

Sam licked her lips and sighed at the salt she could taste on them. "Has McKay figured out how to stop the upper levels from flooding once you've done that?"

"Not... exactly. He's working on it."

"Sir..." She sighed again, the sound no doubt carrying through the microphone to his ears.

"Carter."

"Jack!"

A frustrated sigh met her ears and she closed her eyes again. "He'll figure something out, Sam. The only alternative is to let you drown and that is not an option."

"The city and the lives of those in it are far more important," she argued tiredly, wishing she could feel her arms enough to lift one and attempt to rub the ache from her temples. "We'll be taking on water all over the city with this storm. If we do that and continue to flood from below, the city will sink unless Rodney finds a way to override the system. You can't risk that. You have to stop what you're doing and wait until the storm's over or until Rodney's found a way to get Atlantis back to the surface."

"You know almost as much about Ancient technology as McKay does so as soon as you get back up here, the two of you can figure something out. We're doing this; it's not up for discussion. If you want to kick my ass for overruling you on this, fine – but you're gonna have to make sure you're in a position when we get to you."

It was his way of ordering her to live, to not give up, delivered in truly unique Jack O'Neill form. Despite the situation, Sam found her lips curving upwards in a ghost of a smile. The sounds of them trying to get through the hatch assaulted her ears again, fuelling the glimmer of hope she'd not yet lost. "Understood, Sir."

---

"Colonel Sheppard, can you read?"

John stepped away from the noise of the blowtorch at the nod Jack gave him. He touched his headset, surprised Rodney was being so formal. "I'm here, Rodney. What've you got?"

There was a slight hesitation, and John felt his blood run cold. "It's not good news, John... I... I've been monitoring the lifesigns in both rooms Sam and Elizabeth are in, checking on them every so often in between rewriting the computer code..."

"And...?"

Rodney cleared his throat. "I just checked on them again. Elizabeth's... She's not showing up anymore. I think... I think she's gone, John. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Stunned, John could only stand there, wordlessly moving his mouth. Grief and anguish struck him so hard, it felt for a moment that he couldn't breathe. He'd lost her, again, without having had the chance to make amends, without having had the guts to tell her...

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present. General O'Neill stood behind him and from the look of complete understanding and empathy on the man's face, he knew what had transpired over the private comm. line.

"I'm sorry," Jack murmured, his voice low.

John could only nod, the dull ache in his chest a constant and painful reminder of what he'd lost. "Sam's running out of time," he heard himself say, his voice flat and brittle and strangely not his own. "If we don't hurry this up, we'll lose her, too."

Jack nodded and gave his shoulder a squeeze, a companionable gesture from someone who understood only too well. "Let's get on with it."

---

The coldness of the water was starting to affect her but Elizabeth refused to give up. She resurfaced, gasping for breath, her cheeks stinging when they came into the contact with the cool air.

"Just a little bit further," she muttered to herself, psyching herself up to continue moving forward with a deep breath. There was a corridor ahead and a doorway to the side and instinct was telling her to go through the doorway. "Instinct or Ancient intervention?" She wondered with a grimace.

Deciding she'd work it out later, Elizabeth began swimming towards the doors, careful not to splash too much in case it attracted some unwanted attention. She eased herself through the partially closed doors and began treading water, eyes scanning the room for any danger – and any sign of Sam Carter.

Blond hair floating on the surface was the first thing to catch her attention, then she noticed the deathly white face half-submerged in water and forced her body to move.

"Sam...? Colonel Carter!" Elizabeth swam over to her as quickly as she could, reaching out with a hesitant hand to see if the woman in front of her had a pulse. The contact startled Sam, which in turn startled Elizabeth. The corners of her mouth curving upwards in relief, Elizabeth exhaled slowly.

"Elizabeth?" The word was forced out passed chattering teeth, the frown on Sam's face partly obscured by her water-sodden hair. "How...?"

Elizabeth's smile turned wry. "Long story. Are you okay...? Can you move...?"

"No, on both accounts," Sam mumbled, eyes sliding shut. "Foot's trapped. Can't feel a thing."

Her brow furrowed, Elizabeth glanced down through the water, staring at the blurred outline of the unit that kept the Colonel in place. "I can try to move it," she said bravely, allowing only a hint of doubt to show in her voice. "Will you be okay if I try...?"

Sam's eyes opened, the brilliant blue dimmed with pain and sluggishness. "Don't. You've gotta get out of here... If it comes back..." She rolled her eyes suddenly. "Talking to 'Lizabeth, Jack. Who else?" A strange look passed over her face and she looked at Elizabeth suspiciously. "Doesn't look dead..." To Elizabeth, she said, "John wants to speak to you."

Belatedly realising that her companion was talking into a headset concealed by her hair and the water, Elizabeth hesitantly reached out to detangle it from the mass of blond locks. She put it on to leave her hands free, tiptoes grazing the floor of the room to keep her own head above the surface while she positioned herself behind and underneath Sam to assist her companion in keeping her own face above the water. "I'm here, John."

"Thank God, Elizabeth! We thought you were dead... What the hell are you doing?"

Hearing the relief and anger in his voice, Elizabeth could only roll her eyes. "I'm not dead yet and I'm doing my best to make sure that Colonel Carter doesn't end up that way, either. How soon can you get us out of here?"

"We're working on it now. Should be through in a matter of minutes, actually... How are you?"

"I'm fine," Elizabeth answered quietly after a split-second's hesitation. "Really, John, I'm okay. Better than I've been in a long time."

"How...?"

"How's Carter?" The concerned voice of General O'Neill cut over John's disbelief. Elizabeth smiled again in spite of herself.

"Not good," Elizabeth murmured, knowing her companion would hear her and no doubt deduce the topic of conversation. "I'd suggest you bring a med team with you but I know that's not an option."

"We've got Teyla and Ronon working with Doc Keller on the antidote. If it's ready, we'll bring it with us."

"Hurry up," was the only response Elizabeth could make. She heard a splashing from the hallway beyond the partially closed doors and closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Since I'm sure that isn't you guys in the corridor, I'm going to have to cut this conversation short. Just hurry up, okay? Time's almost up."

Ignoring their protests, Elizabeth took off the headset and let it fall from her fingers to the ground below. She glanced at Sam's face and saw the fear there, saw the disappointment and resignation.

"Get out of here," Sam ordered, her voice harsh as though she was struggling to breathe. "Get away from me. It might not... If it's hungry, it'll go for the easy option..."

Elizabeth shook her head and shifted so she was treading water between the doorway and the blond Colonel. "I'm not going anywhere. You wouldn't leave me," she pointed out quietly. Their eyes met and locked. "Just trust me."

Sam stared at her, blue eyes unblinking. "I do," she responded quietly, but still her eyes slid shut when the sea snake made its appearance.

It was big, a long slender body that stretched on and on. Its head was just visible, green eyes gleaming with intent. The scales on its body glittered in the light, sprinkled with water like sparkling diamonds as it glided fluidly through the water towards them.

It stared at Elizabeth; Elizabeth stared back. She was the only thing between it and its intended meal, and there was no way she could move even if she'd had a sudden change of heart and wanted to.

It opened its mouth, revealing a wide jaw with sharp, jagged fangs that dripped poison and were still stained with the blood. Sam's blood, Elizabeth wondered, or had it found some poor and unsuspecting creature out in open waters to snack on while it waited for its venom to work its magic on the woman behind her?

As quick as lightening, its body recoiled then struck out, tongue hissing between its teeth as it moved to strike her...

A white-gold shield appeared between them, dazzling the sea serpent, startling it. It vanished as the snake backed away only to reappear when it tried to attack again.

The Ancient, Elizabeth realised, ensuring that she lived long enough to keep her side of the bargain.

"What...?" The confused half-question came from behind her but Elizabeth was too fixated on the snake to acknowledge it. She watched in relieved fascination as it struck the shield again, a sizzle of electricity hitting its slender body as it did so.

Admitting defeat, the confused and injured creature slunk away, body sliding soundlessly through the water as it left the room, and the city, in favour of easier prey in the waters beyond the city's walls.

Relief flooding her body, Elizabeth turned to face the question on Sam's face. Her relief was short-lived, though, as the blond woman's eyes remained closed, her face pale and her lips tinged with blue. Their positions had been reversed, in more ways than one, and although the immediate danger had passed, the knot of dread in her stomach tightened instead of easing.

"No..." Reaching out with trembling hands, Elizabeth struggled to find the weak pulse in Sam's neck. She repositioned herself behind and under the unconscious woman's body, forcibly holding Sam's head above the still rising water. "Damn it, help me!"

The Ancients remained silent. No help came in the form of glowing people or brilliant bright lights.

"Stay with me," Elizabeth whispered. "You've got to stay with me. I'll have to face one very pissed off General if you don't."

The woman in her arms remained motionless, body limp and listless. The water would be above her head soon and she'd drown in her sleep, unconscious and trapped with no air, no hope.

Despite her best efforts to rouse the unconscious woman, the water continued to rise and was soon above Sam's head. Elizabeth took a deep breath before lowering herself completely into the water, finding Sam's blue lips and covering them with her own. She breathed the air she was holding into Sam's lungs before breaking away, pushing herself up to the surface again.

She took another deep breath, prepared to dive back under again only to pause when she heard the echo of a shout, followed by the splashing of approaching people.

"In here – we're in here!" She shouted, her voice hoarse. A smile burst across her face at the sight of the two – then three, no four – men who crowded into the room. "She's trapped," she coughed, seeing the alarm pass over Jack's face when he failed to see Sam. "I can't get it to move and she's unconscious..."

Needing no further encouragement, Jack dove under the water. Elizabeth shared a quick, telling look with John before they both did the same.

Jack hovered beside Sam, cradling her body close while he attempted to breathe air into her resisting lungs, so Elizabeth continued down to help John. The look he gave her told her he'd have preferred she stay on the surface but she shook her head and motioned to the bulky unit keeping Sam in her watery grave.

They grabbed hold of it and, at John's signal, tried lifting it. The unit wouldn't budge. They tried again and managed to shift it a fraction of inch but not enough to free the foot still caught in the twisted frame.

Together, they swam upwards, gasping for air as they broke the surface. Elizabeth felt John's arm around her waist, keeping her afloat as her lungs strained to expel the water she'd swallowed on the way up.

"You should stay here," he murmured, voice close to her ear. "You're not strong enough, Elizabeth."

She turned her head slightly, her eyes finding his. "I'm fine, John. Really. I'll explain everything later but right now, she's running out of time."

Jack broke the surface then, rivulets of water running down his face as he inhaled deeply. He glanced at them, his expression neutral despite their position, which she belatedly realised could be construed as compromising. "Think you can shift it?"

John nodded behind her; she felt it rather than saw the motion. "With Ronon's help, sure. Lorne can keep watch for the snake."

"It won't be back," Elizabeth told them, the certainty of her tone absolute. Both men looked sceptical but neither argued the point with her; there simply wasn't time.

Jack nodded and inhaled deeply before sinking back into the water, Elizabeth, John and Ronon soon following suit. With the Satedan's help, shifting the unit was easily accomplished after just two attempts. The three of them returned to the surface in time with Jack, who kept the unconscious leader of the Atlantis expedition close to his chest, her head lolling listlessly on his shoulder.

As Elizabeth watched, the General moved a hand to Sam's neck and she found herself holding her breath, waiting until the relief passed over Jack's face before allowing herself to believe that there was still a chance Sam could be saved.

"We've got to get her to Keller ASAP," Jack mumbled, already turning towards the door.

"I heard from Teyla while you were underwater, Sir," Lorne chimed in from the doorway. "The antidote is ready. They're waiting at the hatch to administer it to Colonel Carter."

The group made their way out of the room, sticking together despite Elizabeth's assurances that the threat of the sea snake was gone. Their progress was slow due to the need for Jack to swim using only one arm but the General gently but adamantly refused Ronon's offer to take the unconscious woman from him.

Elizabeth found herself trailing behind, conscious of John swimming beside her. She glanced over at him and found him staring back at her, the expression on his face suggesting that he still couldn't quite believe she was there, living and breathing and okay.

She waited until the group was assembled safely underneath the open hatch, watching as Sam's body was gently lifted up and out of the water and into the waiting arms of Jack, who'd climbed ahead of the harnessed Colonel to be there on the other side. Then she turned to John and put a hand on his arm, stopping him from following Lorne and Ronon, both of whom had begun their own ascent.

"I... There's so much I want to say to you but I can't find the right words..." She stared at him helplessly, wanting so much to answer the questions he had about her time with the Replicators, to tell him about her deal with the Ancients and the feelings she'd discovered she had in the aftermath of the nightmare her life had become... She wanted to say so much but the words refused to come, sentences refusing to form in her mind. "John, I..."

"I missed you," he said, cutting her off. He moved through the water until he was in front of her, his arms moving to wrap around her and draw her close. "I never gave up on the hope of finding you, never wanted to imagine what it'd be like if we didn't – for either of us. I don't want to go through that again. I don't think I could stand losing you again..."

She managed a watery smile when he lapsed into silence, the flush on his face telling her he'd said more than he was comfortable with. They stared at one another for several long moments, a dozen thoughts and feelings passing between them in those few, precious seconds.

Only the sound of someone clearing their throat above them reminded them that they both had something else they should be doing and they broke apart, embarrassed but pleased smiles on their faces as they began to climb, silently supporting each other as always.

The words were still unspoken between them but they were an all-important step closer to a time when they could.

---

It took a good twenty-four hours for the antidote to the poison to take effect. In that time, Elizabeth had explained what had happened – several times – to the IOA, John, Jack, McKay and a disbelieving Doctor Keller, who at first had struggled to believe the results of the tests she'd run were accurate.

It was only when the General got tired of sitting beside Elizabeth's bed and brought the discussions to a halt that Elizabeth was allowed a few moments alone with her friends before following Doctor Keller's orders to rest.

She felt like one of them again, physically as well as otherwise. She laughed at John's jokes, shared Rodney and Zelenka's joy at finally having overridden the city's defenses and solved the flooding problem on the lower levels – she'd even smiled behind her hand when the two scientists left the infirmary bickering over who had thought of the solution first. She accepted Ronon's apology and believed him when he told her he was pleased she was back and she'd returned the embrace Teyla had bestowed on her, tears springing to her eyes at the warmth and friendship she felt in the Athosians arms. She sat and listened to John's recap of all that had happened in her absence, sharing the triumphs and grief as he recounted all that had been gained and all that had been lost.

By the time he was ushered out of the room, Elizabeth was in complete agreement with Keller's assessment that she needed to rest and gratefully sank down under the covers, able at last to close her eyes and go to sleep, confident that Atlantis would still be there when she woke up.

She would still be home.

---

After much discussion, it was decided that Elizabeth would be allowed to stay on Atlantis. Sam would remain the leader of the expedition for the foreseeable future at the insistence of the IOA but, at her request and later insistence, Doctor Elizabeth Weir would remain behind and take up the position of consultant in all civilian and diplomatic-related areas. It was a compromise not all parties were happy with but the only solution that could be reached within the four days in between Sam being released from the infirmary and the visiting official's departure through the Stargate.

Leaving with the IOA reps was one General Jack O'Neill, who stood in the gateroom a short distance away from his travelling companions, saying a private goodbye to the Colonel and her team.

"Sheppard, Elizabeth." He shook both of their hands and gave them a speculative glance when they stepped back and stood well within one another's personal space. "Take care of yourselves."

"You, too, Sir." John gave a short nod while Elizabeth smiled her agreement. "And don't be a stranger. Come back and visit anytime."

Jack's gaze shifted from him to the blond Colonel and the corners of his lips quirked upwards in a hint of a smile. "I'll do that," he murmured, not really noticing when the two original members of the Atlantis expedition moved away. "You sure you're okay, Carter?"

"I'm sure." Her smile was genuine but strained, the sadness in her eyes breaking his heart. "You'll come back soon...?"

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away." They shared a soft smile and he took a half-step closer as the Stargate activated. "Come here."

A pretty pink blush stole over her cheeks, a splash of colour in contrast to the pallor she'd been sporting, but Sam stepped forward, willingly entering the circle of his arms. "People will talk," she murmured, nestling her head in the crook of his shoulder.

"Let them." He tilted her face up with a gentle hand, fingertips lingering over her skin.

They stood as though frozen in time for a few moments, parting only when the awaiting IOA members grew restless.

"I'll see you soon," he promised, stepping back to join his fellow travellers as they approached the Stargate.

Sam smiled and wrapped her arms around herself, watching him go with a tender expression on her face. "I'll be waiting."

Always.

---

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