RATING -- Rated G -- It can be read by everyone
SPOILERS -- This story contains spoilers for:
"The Storm"
"The Eye"
"Grace Under Pressure"
SUMMARY -- As if there aren't enough post-ep fics for "Grace Under Pressure" already out there, I felt I had to write another one This is told from Radek Zelenka's point of view, and deals with his thoughts after the events in "Grace Under Pressure". Radek thinks about friendship, courage and the power of water.
A/N -- So, yes, this is a result of my fascination (read: borderline obsession) with the character of Dr. Radek Zelenka. I think he's a fantastic character and deliciously complex, and I also think we need to see more of him in SGA. (Also, I think I have a crush on David Nykl... but I digress...) There is some mild ZelenkaWeir in this fic, but I'm not the 'shippy-est of the 'shippers so if anyone's disappointed, I apologize. The poem titled "Atlantic" at the beginning of this story was also composed by me. I wrote it several months ago, and it really has nothing to do with SGA, but it fit the mood of the piece so I decided to include it anyway. Please let me know what you think.
Erm…also no beta, so all mistakes are mine. P
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A beautiful mystery,
she embraces all
save God and His stars
with her body;
liquid grace.
Wonder at her secrets,
admire her if you will
but trust her not,
for the ageless Delilah
keeps life and death
at either hand,
and changes with the winds.
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Reflections On Water
Before Atlantis, if anyone had asked Radek Zelenka what he thought of the sea, his answer would have been complicated.
Ever since he was a young boy, Radek has disliked water. Just the thought of entering a body of water larger than his bathtub would cause his chest to tighten in with panic. He can trace the beginning of this fear to an afternoon in July when he was eight years old. His older cousin, Dušana, had taken him and his best friend Mirek to a play at a public swimming pool. The children had been happy enough, splashing around in the shallow end, under Dušana's watchful eye. Everything had been fine until Mirek had dared Radek to jump into the deep end. Even as an adult, Radek cannot figure out what had possessed him to accept that dare. He'd cannonballed into the pool and had promptly sunk to the bottom. He'd fought with every ounce of strength in his little body to reach the surface again, but in the end it was Dušana and one of her friends who'd gotten him out. Well into his adulthood, he still has bad dreams about it. He dreams about the water closing over his head, burning his lungs, blurring his vision. He often wakes up in the night, face streaked with sweat and tears, pushing his blankets away as if they are the lethal water from his nightmare.
As a child he had never seen the ocean. His country, the Czech Republic, is landlocked, surrounded by other nations on every side. Radek hadn't beheld his first glimpse of the sea until he'd been a young man doing his required tour of service in his country's army. He had been awestruck by his first view of it. He did not find it beautiful as his friend Mirek claimed it to be, nor did he find it as fascinating as his friend Alexander did. Radek could only see the awesome, dreadful power the ocean commanded. Such power could be turned to good or bad, and not always at the whim of humankind. If anyone had inquired then, Radek Zelenka would have said that asking what he thought of the sea was too close to asking what he thought about God or outer space. Some things, he'd thought back then, were too vast to be comprehended.
Since Atlantis, things have changed. He doesn't attempt to comprehend God any more, but he does probe the mysteries of space. He has many thoughts about water now that he'd never considered before. Water is everywhere in this place. Surrounded by it, he can no longer remain neutral in his attitude toward it.
During visits to the mainland, he's witnessed John Sheppard at play in the sea with the Athosian children. Sheppard has been teaching some of them to swim, and he's even begun to teach a few of the older Athosian boys the art of surfing. Radek's other friends love the water just as much as Colonel Sheppard loves it. They often want Radek to join them, but he never does. He's more comfortable watching from the beach, resting in the warmth of the sun and the sand. He's never told anyone about his fear of water. Never...until yesterday.
On one memorable visit to the mainland, it was Elizabeth, not John, nor Carson nor Rodney – the usual suspects – who had tried to coax Radek into the water. Elizabeth, standing chest-deep, her dark hair glistening with droplets, had made him think of a mermaid. Part of him still desperately wishes he could have joined her. In truth, he almost had. He'd gone so far as to remove his shoes and wade into the sea, but the sensation of water lapping around his shins made him retreat once again to the safety of the beach. He should have told her the truth, then. Elizabeth, I am afraid of water. Perhaps she would have come to him, taken his hands, and led him in slowly so he wouldn't panic. No, no... This is the worst kind of wishful thinking. It would never have happened like that, no matter how much he wanted it, not in a lifetime of days. What he'd really said was the water is too cold. He'd felt a twinge of anxiety for having lied to Elizabeth, but only a little one. His apprehension overpowered everything else.
He blushes a little at this memory, and is glad no one is around to see. He envies Elizabeth and his other friends their easy grace in the water, their obvious pleasure at being surrounded and immersed. Even Rodney – whiny, prickly, fastidious Rodney – enjoys it and seems appeased when he's swimming. After the events of yesterday, Radek wonders if Rodney's feelings will be the same. Perhaps Rodney will fear the ocean now as well.
Radek walks down the corridor, away from the infirmary where Rodney is sleeping. Rodney will be all right. Doctor Beckett has assured him of it. Rodney's going to be just fine, Radek. Now, you go off and get some sleep, Carson had said. You've been through a lot, too, and you need to rest.
The trouble is Radek cannot rest. Perversely, he is too tired for sleep. His mind replays the events of the last day, and he knows he'll dream about it every night for weeks. He will remember it all; the crashed 'jumper with Rodney trapped inside, himself descending through several hundred metres in another 'jumper with Colonel Sheppard, their small craft coming to rest on the ocean floor. He'll recall how they'd extended the shield and walked through to the downed ship. He will remember the sea creature, too, that terrifying godsend, who kept circling the crashed 'jumper and had unwittingly let them know Rodney was there.
They'd spent several hours in Colonel Sheppard's 'jumper, decompressing afterwards. Radek had thought going underwater would have been the most difficult part of the rescue, but the time spent in the confined space of the 'jumper with Rodney and the colonel had been worse. Radek had been greatly relieved they'd been able to save Rodney, of course, but his relief battled with his guilt over Griffin's death and his confusion about what could possibly have gone wrong with his own careful repairs. He'd wanted to talk, but Rodney hadn't been up to it and Colonel Sheppard had seemed distant, distracted, lost in a realm of the mind where no one else could go. Radek had nothing but his own thoughts for company, and he didn't like those. He'd tried to sleep but he hadn't been able to, any more than he is able to rest now.
He steps out-of-doors, onto one of the many balconies. It's sunrise. The sky is bathed in soft pink and blue and pale gold. The ocean is a misty grey in the early light. Radek likes to look at it when it's calm like this. He doesn't deceive himself into thinking the ocean is innocent, but in the first moments of dawn he likes to imagine the ocean is sleeping, stretched luxuriantly over the seabed, poised to wake when the sun beams brightly on her face. Maybe the metaphor is colourful, but so is the sky that made him think of it and, he tells himself, he is very tired and not completely in control of the pictures his imagination creates.
A recollection comes to him of another morning when he'd been watching the sky. It had been the morning before The Storm. It's odd, he muses, how everyone speaks of The Storm as if it should be spelled with capital letters. Perhaps this is because The Storm was a Significant Event. He laughs inwardly when he notices he capitalizes this in his mind, too. On the morning of The Storm, the horizon had been stained deep magenta with streaks of vibrant red. For some reason, the colour made Radek think of festivals and music and dancers. He has next to no experience with the ocean. He could not have realized the crimson sky he'd found so lovely was really a portent of danger, a flag to herald the coming storm. Had he known, he would have told someone what he'd seen, but he hadn't known and he'd gone away with a vision of lively dancers swirling around in his head.
Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning, was the proverb Carson Beckett had quoted to him later. Carson, as it turned out, had seen that sunrise too. He'd confessed to Radek he wasn't sure the adage which had proved to be an axiom on Earth would still hold true in the Pegasus galaxy. Radek had merely smiled at that. Evidently, some things are constant no matter where you are.
Things like friendship, courage, and the power of water, he thinks. Radek has never considered himself to be a particularly courageous person. He doesn't like heights. He's nervous about flying. The thought of stepping through the Stargate makes his belly knot with apprehension. He has other worries, too; an entire armada of small, persistent fears that assaults him every day. Frightened by his own shadow, as Cousin Dušana back on Earth might say, and maybe that's true because sometimes he wakes from a dream and has to put on all the lights to assure himself the terrors in the darkness are not real. Before Atlantis, he'd never have believed he had any courage at all, but here he's learning what courage really means.
Tonight, in the Infirmary, Elizabeth had laid her hand over his and told him he was brave. When he'd opened his mouth to protest, she had stopped him with a glance. Just a minute, Radek. Let me finish. Courage, she'd said, was not about being unafraid. Yes, Radek had been scared, and who could blame him? Still, he'd known what had to be done and despite any personal misgivings he had done it. That made him brave, Elizabeth had said. When she smiled at him, told him she was proud of him and that he'd done well, his heart had swelled with gratitude for her praise. If Elizabeth believes in him, perhaps he can believe in himself after all. For the first time, he understands the sentiment, anything's possible. This is the Lost City of Atlantis, herself a survivor against all odds. Maybe in Atlantis, anything is possible.
Atlantis. Radek never would have envisioned himself in a place like this. Atlantis was the stuff of fantasy and he knows he would never have believed it to be real without the proof of his own eyes. Sometimes, when he steps back from the business of day-to-day activities he is staggered by the enormity, the magnificence of it. Atlantis, city of the Ancients, has risen from her slumber in the depths of the sea after ten thousand years, and this is where he, Radek Zelenka, lives. He believes he isn't dreaming, though he thinks he ought to pinch his own forearm on occasion just to be sure. One thing he is certain about is that he cannot imagine not living here, now. Atlantis has embraced him as she has embraced them all, as the vast sea of her world embraces her. He is confident in calling Atlantis home. She is home, just as much as his beloved Czech Republic is home. He is startled when he realizes he feels safe here. Even despite the dangers, despite being surrounded by water, he somehow feels secure. He is content in Atlantis, challenged by his work, happy with his new friends. He would feel a terrible loss if he had to leave these people and this place. He would miss the antics of Colonel Sheppard, the calm, steady presence of Teyla Emmagan, and the camaraderie of all his colleagues. He thinks he would especially miss the way Elizabeth often glances his way and smiles when she thinks he isn't looking. He would even - God help him - miss squabbling with Rodney. He smiles when he remembers Major Lorne's observation of the two of them. Dr. Zelenka, you and Dr. McKay fight like brothers. In a way they are brothers, adopted into the family of their ancient, ethereal mother Atlantis.
Why had he gone down with Colonel Sheppard to rescue Rodney from the crashed 'jumper, feeling fear like the coldest sea water flowing around his heart and knowing the ocean might very well kill them all if they failed? Elizabeth had asked him to, yes, but it wasn't Elizabeth's words that had galvanized him in the end. Atlantis would not have forgiven him if he'd done nothing when he could have prevented the death of one of her children. He'd never have been able to forgive himself. He knows he'd be unable to live with the knowledge that, but for his own fear, he could have done something to save the life of his water-brother. That is why he went down. Rodney is family to him, now. They all are.
It is the water that draws them together here; the awesome, beautiful, chaotic, ever-changing water. The water binds them just as closely as if they'd been born of common blood. Of course they have troubles, but all families do. They argue sometimes, but siblings on every world do the same. In the end, they still care for each other and would go to the stars or the bottom of the sea to protect each other from harm. Maybe, in this place that's so far from everything he's ever known, where the things he'd understood on Earth are coloured by the hue of a different sky, he can transform. He does not want to become someone he doesn't recognize. He only wants to be a changed Radek Zelenka; a man he can say without doubt is confident and courageous
Today, if someone asks him what he thinks of the ocean, he will say he respects it. He may never learn to love it, but slowly, ever-so-slowly, he is learning to relinquish his fear. Radek watches the small waves wash against Atlantis. Today their motion is as gentle as that of a woman caressing her child. He smiles. Some day, on another calm morning like this, he might even be brave enough to ask Colonel Sheppard – or perhaps Elizabeth – to teach him how to swim.