The desert is dry and all the water is dirty
Oberoth turned as Rachek stepped into the room, "The mission was successful sir. The Atlantis team now believes Dr. Weir to be dead and the fake team has been destroyed too."
Nodding, Oberoth let a cold smile flit across his face. "Very well, Rachek. Thank you for the update. I want an ship sent to the next Wraith planet as soon as possible." He paused and turned to the screen in the corner. It immediately came to life with an image of a room, white and sterile with one thing in it. A stasis chamber. Inside the chamber, Elizabeth Weir was held, cold and frozen, her eyes moving fast under her eyelids, two electrodes attached to her temples. Always fighting. Oberoth moved and let a hand fall to the screen, closing his eyes. He smiles when he felt the distress at the new information and built more metal walls to keep her far from where she could gain any power.
He sensed her determination and grinned, cruelly. "They won't be looking for you any longer, Dr. Weir."
Blinking, he was surprised as she let the emotion take residence for a minute before she began fighting again. A minute, Oberoth switched of the screen. A minute of doubt. He smiled once again. That was all he needed and soon it would be more. Dr. Weir was strong, he could not deny that, but she was a single woman against a city. She would never win.
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Elizabeth fought blindly at mental prison Oberoth had put her into. She fought because even with the nanites inside her, she knew who she was and she would not let them win. She would get back to Atlantis.
As the knowledge of the, her, team came into her mind, she felt a wave of grief, because if this meant that they had to watch her die again, for them. She would have never wanted that to befall on John, Rodney, Teyla or Ronon ever again, but nothing could be done now, except fight. She fought for them, for herself, for Atlantis. She thought of John and how he must be suffering, how he must be blaming himself, hoping and trying to be strong. She wished she could tell him that she was alive, as healthy as possible and fighting to get back, to him, to the team, to Atlantis. She wanted to tell him that she would fight until she was back with all of them, but she knew she couldn't, not yet. For a second she let herself fall to her thoughts when she felt a tickle in her brain.
Oberoth words drifted to her and she knew want he wanted: fear, surrender, doubt. And she let him have it, because for the second he believed her doubt he dropped his guard a little and there it was, a small opening. She hid her smile and kept fighting.
She would not give up. Ever. Elizabeth Weir pushed against her prison, Atlantis in her heart. s