Testing Reality
AN: This is a bridge piece between "Progeny" and "The Real World." and then some added scenes for "The Real World." Unabashedly John/Elizabeth. John is very passionate and hands on with everything else in his life. Can't see him being different with his soulmate. If only the writers saw how easy it would have been to put in a little more J/E lovin' into the episodes. ; ) Alas, they have left it to us. Established relationship implied. Happy my muse chose to stay around and play awhile. Minor spoilers.
Also, a huge thank you to readers who have taken the time to review the stories I have posted. You have been most kind and generous with your words and thoughts. I do appreciate it
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. All rights belong to others. Merely borrowing characters and concepts for short time and will return in relatively the same shape as when taken. As always, all mistakes are mine.
"You okay?" Jon Sheppard asked softly, worried eyes scanning the face of Elizabeth Weir.
Shakily, she tried to smile at him. "Yeah," she breathed back, still feeling the lingering effects of the replicator's hand trying to choke the life from her. She had no doubt that if John had not broadsided the human shaped machine to break his hold, she would be dead.
"Thank you," she added, seeing concern on his features. Glancing at others she added "to all of you" knowing each had tried to save her also.
Receiving their affirmative nods, Elizabeth leaned back and closed her eyes. Her throat hurt as well as the splitting headache she had been fighting since her mind had been repeatedly probed and connected with the replicators. Unconsciously she fingered the pressure points on her neck that she knew would probably turn to bruises. Shuddering, it felt as if Niam's hands were still there.
"Elizabeth?"
John's worried call drew her attention back to him. Turning the corners of her mouth upward slightly in a shaky smile, Elizabeth shook of her head to tell him it was nothing. She could see the doubt and worry linger in his features.
"We'll be down in a few minutes," John stated tearing his eyes back to the navigation screen. "Rodney, contact Atlantis and have Carson standing by."
"John, I'm fine," Elizabeth stated, her attempt to sound normal compromised by the need to clear her throat again.
"Here," Teyla Emmagan said, handing her a cold pack from the med kit. "It should help," she added, easing it against Elizabeth's throat.
"It's best if we are all examined," Rodney McKay pointed out. "I don't know about you, but I'll feel better knowing those monsters did no permanent damage in my head."
Acting more on instinct than anything else, John guided the ship into the jumper bay all the while throwing glances at Elizabeth to ensure she was still okay. Landing, he shut off the controls and turned towards her. "Rodney, tell Carson to bring in..." Before he could finish, Elizabeth interrupted him.
"I can walk," she stressed, already guessing John was calling for a stretcher. Glancing at the others, she smiled tightly, seeing their worry. "You three go on. Tell Carson we'll be there in a minute. I want to talk to John for a minute."
Waiting for John's affirmation they should do what she asked, Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney reluctantly passed through the bulkhead door toward the back of the jumper.
"I'm okay," she reiterated to John, allowing her head to lay back against the seat watching him. "A headache, that's all.'
"I see the pain in your eyes and you're white as a sheet," John murmured, switching seats and reaching to look under the cold pack. Wincing, he eased it back before brushing his fingers across her cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
Capturing his hand against her face, she leaned into his touch. "It's not your fault," she chided. "If you hadn't moved so fast..." She trailed off, turning her head to brush her lips over his knuckles. "How long before you think they'll be back?"
Shaking his head, John moved to stand. "We'll deal with that when it happens. Right now," he added urging to her stand, "let's worry about getting you feeling better." Helping her to stand, he pulled her tight against his side when she swayed. "Hey, hey," he urged. "You with me?" he asked keeping his voice light while looking down at her face with worried eyes.
Swallowing hard, Elizabeth plastered a forced weak grin on her face. "Barely," she breathed. "Vest weighs a ton," she said shakily, reaching for the clasps. Holding her balanced while he helped her to remove it, he made sure she was steady on her feet before letting go long enough to shed his own. Finished, he drew her close again, giving her his strength to lean on.
Taking a few deep breathes, she forced her body to absorb his warmth and respond. "I'm okay," she tried to assure him and convince herself she could do this.
Pulling her tighter, he placed a kiss on the side her head before tightening his hold on her. "You better be."
"Colonel? Doctor Weir?"
The sound of Carson Beckett's concerned call reached them. Kissing her temple again, John eased his grip, retaining one hand on her back, the other under her arm. "Come on," he stated. "Carson's gonna have a full crew in here in a minute."
Moving slowly forward, she saw the anxious group waiting for her. Stepping from the jumper, the lights of the bay pierced her eyes like daggers causing her to stumble.
"Elizabeth!" Carson exclaimed as John stopped her from hitting the ground. "Get that stretcher over here," the Scottish doctor yelled.
Looking down, John could see that her face was creased in pain, he slipped his arm under her legs and stood, cradling her against his chest. 'Carson?" he asked as the medical professional took her pulse before he did a quick assessment.
Peering at her neck and face, Carson swore softy. Looking up at John, he said, "Let's get her to the infirmary," stepping around the stretcher to help settle her.
As John moved to put her on it, he stepped farther away from the overhang of the jumper and more into the light. He stopped when Elizabeth whimpered and he felt her bury her face into his neck. Making up his mind, he shook his head at Carson. "Let's go," he announced striding toward the door with Elizabeth still in his arms.
-SGA-
~~~~SGA~~~SGA
Guarded eyes watched the shapes moving on the other side of the plastic sheeting surrounding her. She knew what each form appeared to be. She recognized the computers and alien technology that had been paired and integrated to bring the best medical care possible to the human inhabitants of the Pegasus galaxy.
Humanoids she knew as Ronan, Rodney and Teyla were there also, listening to Carson. Muted voices hummed softly, their cadence and tone varying with each speaker. Few actual words reached her but she knew she was the subject for at least part of their conversation. She also knew their attention was torn between her and something on the other side of the room.
She wished she could know if they were actually real.
"How are you feeling?" the form she knew as Carson asked coming into the tented area, his face and voice altered by the isolation suit.
Nodding, Elizabeth scanned his features trying to find some indication if she was truly in Atlantis or merely in the middle of some fractured psychotic fantasy as the doctor had tried to convince her she had been living.
"Do you remember what happened to you? Why you're in here?" Carson prodded gently, seeing the wariness in her features.
That answer depended if she was actually in Atlantis or still in the psychiatric hospital. Unsure, she decided she would not answer the question posed. "Where's John?" If this was truly Atlantis, he would be here.
"He's getting scanned," Beckett answered. "How's your head? Can you tell me what happened to you?" he tried again to bring the focus back.
How did she begin to explain what she had been through, memories flashing through her mind of the months of torture she had been through. "How long?"
Frowning, Carson shook his head. "How long for what? Til John's done? Not long. We should know something soon. Let's focus on you for right now shall we?"
"How long have I been here?" Elizabeth tried again.
"You were brought in a little over five hours ago," Beckett replied, watching the shock flash through her eyes before they were once again guarded.
Doubt flared again in Elizabeth. She had months worth of horrible memories screaming in her head. Stiffening, her first instinct was to escape. But history told her trying to do that would only get her drugged. Licking her lips nervously, she tried an alternative approach. "Can I go back to my room now?"
"I think you need to stay here, at least for a little while yet," Beckett said, her evasiveness alarming him. "You rest and I'll be back in a wee bit."
Coming out of the tent, he shook his head at the others before heading across the room. Zipping back up the isolation tent surrounding John, Carson stopped beside the Colonel sitting on the bed staring across the infirmary.
"How she doing?" John asked glancing at Carson.
"Physically, she's fine," Beckett sighed.
"But?" Sheppard pressed, catching the unsaid context of the physician's words.
Shaking his head, Carson blew out a breath. "She's off somehow. She's hyper-vigilant, guarded. She won't answer my questions. It almost like she doesn't trust anyone or anything around her. I've only seen this type of behavior when someone's been held captive and endured extreme emotional and physical stress for a long period of time."
Tensing John looked back toward her. "But it was only five hours."
"That we know of," Beckett replied softly. "You said yourself that time was messed up when the Replicators were in your head."
Nodding slowly, John frowned. "And you're positive it's not the nannites still messing with her?" he asked, remembering the images that had appeared in his mind when he had been gripping her arm.
Shaking his head, Carson affirmed it. "They're deactivated. Rodney and I are both sure of that. It's something else going on. I've asked her several times how she's feeling and if she remembers anything and she won't answer. All she does is ask questions back."
"Classic deflective survival tactic," John murmured. "I need to talk to her," he announced, rising from the bed.
"Hold it right there," Carson barked, stepping between Sheppard and the doorway. "We don't know if you're infected or not yet. You need to stay in here."
"The scan was clean," John stated, dismissing the doctor's concern.
"You don't mind if I get a medical opinion on that, do ya'?" he quipped dryly.
Stilling, John looked expectantly at him.
Keying his earpiece, Carson asked for John's results. Listening to the report, he watched as John's eyes drifted back towards the source of his worry. "I see. Thank you, Doctor," Beckett said, signing off.
"Well?" Sheppard pressed, his eyes piercing Beckett's.
Knowing that while he had just heard good news, the doctor also knew he was about to have a battle on his hands. "The scan is clean, but," he stressed, stopping John with a hand on his chest as the Colonel started to move to the door. "That doesn't mean you aren't infected," he added.
A frown crossed John's face. "Why not?"
"The nannites are so small it is possible that they are undetectable until they reach a certain quantity in your system. That's probably why we didn't know that Elizabeth had been infected earlier."
"So what are you telling me?"
"I'm telling you that you need to stay here for a while longer," Carson explained gently, watching frustration flash in John's eyes. Gripping his shoulder, he tried to relay his understanding. "I know you want to be over there with her. But right now, I can't risk you infecting her or anyone else."
As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Carson was correct. Militarily and medically, they could not afford to have a dangerous contagion loose in the base. Nodding, John stepped back and sat down on the bed. "How long?" he asked tensely.
"At the rate that they multiplied in Elizabeth, another hour or so and we should be able to tell."
~~SGA~~SGA~~SGA~~~~
'How's he doing?" Ronan asked as Carson pulled the isolation helmet from his head.
"Ready to tear somebody's head off," Beckett replied, glancing back at the pacing form in the tent behind him. In the past hour, he had watched the Colonel become more and more impatient with the situation. "We should have the results from the second scan soon." Turning his attention to Teyla, he nodded toward Elizabeth. "Any luck?" he asked. They had suited Teyla up and had her approach Elizabeth, hoping she would be less threatened by a woman.
"None," Teyla sighed. "You are correct in your assessment that she does not appear to trust anyone right now."
"She tell you anything about what's going on?" Ronan asked, concerned.
"The only time she spoke was to asked about John," Teyla replied.
Ronan turned to Carson. "You said she had an awful lot of neural activity happening when the nannites were active. Is it possible they damaged her somehow?"
'Her scans aren't showing any damage," Beckett said.
Listening, Rodney frowned. Moving suddenly to the monitors, he keyed up the information. Reading it, he nodded his head. "Just as I thought." Pointing towards the screen he continued. "Carson, you said her brain activity acted like she was just going on with her normal life when she was out of it. Technically that wasn't correct. When Elizabeth's brain was infected, it was firing at an astronomic rate, especially her cerebral cortex."
Sharing a questioning look with Teyla, Ronan looked at Carson and Rodney. "What does that mean?"
"It means she was being inundated with experiences, thoughts, feelings, memories. If I had to guess, she had the equivalent of weeks if not months of activity happen in those few hours."
"But of what?" Teyla asked.
Sharing a look with Rodney before looking back at Teyla, Carson shook his head. "Lass, that is the question, isn't it. From how she's acting, I'd say it wasn't anything good."
~~SGA~SGA~~~SGA~~~~~
Hearing the zipper of the tent open, Elizabeth sat up and immediately tensed at the sight of three men entering. Scrambling off the bed, she nervously looked around for some way to escape.
They were not going to sedate her again.
"Doctor Weir," one of the men said, trying to placate her. "I just need to get a little blood and they are gong to get some of this equipment out of here. We aren't going to hurt you."
Tensing, Elizabeth waited until the form neared her with the syringe. As he turned to set down the tray holding the supplies, she threw her body into his, sending him staggering away from her. Darting, she made several steps before strong hands grabbed her, trying to stop her progress.
When she felt arms trying to wrap themselves around her, she threw her body backward forcing both of them backward into the monitors and equipment. Vaguely, she was aware of the sounds as it fell and of the yells and calls going on around her. Arching and struggling, Elizabeth fought against the multiple hands now holding her, forcing her to the ground. Crying out in frustration and fear, she screamed for John as she heard them yell for a sedative.
"LET HER GO!"
The three medical personnel, startled by the order being barked at them, instinctively released their grip on Elizabeth. Hastily, she scrambled to her feet and darted toward the one constant who had tried to help her during her ordeal. Stopping a few steps away from him she hesitantly licked her lips. "John?"
"It's okay Elizabeth, you're safe," he soothed, concerned by the panic and uncertainty in her features. "You're in the infirmary. On Atlantis," he stated again, knowing she had been repeatedly told the same thing before.
Inching closer to him, John held his breath and motioned for the medical staff to stay back when she hesitantly reached out and touch his chest. Pressing on the flesh under the cotton tee, she drew in a hissing sharp breath. Looking up to his eyes, she whispered, "Is it real?"
Confusion swept over John. Shaking his head to tell her he was unsure what she was asking, he waited.
Bunching the fabric of his shirt in her hands she dared to look around her. She saw the worried features of John's team and Carson watching her anxiously outside the plastic tent as well as the familiar site of the base's medical room. Bringing her focus back to John she asked, her voice no louder than a strangled whisper. "Is any of this real?"
Looking into her eyes, he tried to ground her from whatever it was that was making her doubt. "It's real, I'm real," he answered, laying his hands on her arms. "You're safe now," he stressed each word. "You beat the nannites and Carson says you're going to be fine."
Staring deeply into John's eyes, she looked for something to contradict his words. Daring to believe, a quiet sob escaped her lips before she leaned forward and buried herself against him, her hands sliding around and trying to find some way to meld their bodies even closer.
Wrapping his arms around her, John lowered his head next to hers as the tremors in her body passed into him. "It's okay," he whispered. "Shh...I've got you. You're going to be alright, Elizabeth." Swallowing the lump in his throat at the sound of her muffled sobs, John closed his eyes and held on.
~~SGA~~SGA~~SGA
Stopping on the opposite side of the control room, John turned back to watch Elizabeth. While Carson may have given her a clean physical bill of health, it was obvious to him that she was still spooked from her ordeal. A twinge of guilt passed through him remembering the flash of fear in her eyes when he has teased her about this not being reality. The replicators had really messed with her mind.
After she had calmed down and he had gotten her back onto the infirmary bed, he had stayed with her while Carson had examined her. Frowning, he shook his head again in disgust at the memory of what she had told them she had experienced. He had no doubt how real it must have felt to her from the flashes he had experienced when he had held her arm and the continuing power it held over her. The extra time he had to stay in isolation to be sure that he hadn't been infected had been a small price to pay for being able to help her.
Retracing his steps, John smiled when she turned surprised eyes toward him. Tipping his head toward the exit, he asked "Walk with me?"
With a tight smile and small nod, Elizabeth fell into step with him. Passing through the empty dimly lit hallways, the pair did not speak as they wound their way around Atlantis. A simple touch or nod indicated the direction and speed one of them wanted.
Watching her as they walked, John could see fatigue settling into Elizabeth's features. Placing a hand on her lower back, he guided her towards his quarters as they were closer to it than hers. Escorting her in, he let her stop inside the room sensing her hesitancy.
Shedding his jacket, he draped it on the back of a chair. Unbuckling his belt, he covertly watched her as she stared at the bed on the other side of the room. Unlacing his boots, he kicked them off before moving behind her and laying his hands on her shoulders to remove her jacket.
"I don't want to sleep," she said, her voice low, but not fighting him.
Kneeling, he unzipped her boots and slipped them off before squeezing her leg in understanding. "Not saying you have to," he answered quietly before standing up and brushing her hair back to remove her radio. Catching her eye, he added, "You need to rest though."
Seeing the unasked question in her eyes, he trailed his fingers down her cheek before laying his hand on the side of her face. "I'm here. I won't disappear," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.
Sliding her hands around his neck, she pulled him closer and captured his mouth, deepening the kiss. When they slowly broke apart, Elizabeth drew in a shaky breath. As she exhaled it, "I'm scared this is all just a dream," escaped.
Slowly shaking his head, John smiled tenderly and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Close your eyes," he murmurred. "Go on, close them," he urged seeing her reluctance. When she finally did as he asked, he counted to ten before saying, "Now, open them. Still here," he assured her, seeing the brightness of tears in her eyes.
Pulling her close, he brushed kisses on her eyes before burying his head in her neck. "Love you, Not going anywhere," he said huskily.
"Love you too," Elizabeth breathed, drawing in a steadying breath.
"Come on," John said, leading them to the bed. Settling on top of it, he ran comforting fingers down her back as she nestled against him, resting her head on his shoulder and bunching his shirt in her fist.
Capturing her hand, John eased it from the fabric and laced his fingers with hers. Stroking his thumb along the side of it, he slowly felt her relax. Forcing his own body to relax, he let out a breath, hoping his calmness would seep into her and lull her to sleep despite her adamants of not wanting it. Laying there a few minutes, the silence was broken by a whispered plea and reply.
"Don't let me go."
"Never."
July 2014
AN2: Okay, I'll admit these scenes would have never made it to the screen. But, it did this shipper heart good to write them. Hope you enjoyed them also. Thanks for reading.