The lower level: a deathly quiet, and, above all, dangerous place. You didn't know what lay hidden beyond the next door. It could be holding back tons of sea water or concealing failed equipment from view.
It was the quiet, the pure solace, that John had gone down there for. That, and the fact that no one else ever ventured down there, made it the perfect place of refuge in the time of need.
"Damn you, Rodney. Damn you," John muttered, as hot, angry tears began leaking from his eyes. "You just couldn't let her go. You had to. . .had to . . "
The rest of the words he was going to say were caught in his throat as he sobbed in earnest. He wasn't quite sure, to be honest, what he cried for. For Elizabeth, yes, he knew that. For loosing her, yes as well. But what else?
Maybe he had loved her. That thought nearly stopped John's heart. No, he told himself, after thinking it over a couple of minutes. No, Teyla, she's the one I love. If she'd have died. . .
John shook his head firmly, pushing all such thoughts out of his head, as if to not tempt fate. He'd never admitted to himself his feelings for the beautiful Athosian woman, until now, in the aftermath of another amazing woman's death. But now, in the perfect quiet of the lower level, it was all his mind could focus on.
It didn't seem absurd at all. He liked, no, loved, her and she appeared to feel the same for him. Maybe it wasn't impossible, either. Maybe they could . . .
"Wait, no," John said aloud, then paused to let the echoes fade into the distance. "I guess I'd better not let that thought take control of me. Just a dream, I guess. Don't get your hopes up, John."
Making an effort to keep his mind off of all thoughts of love and death, John looked both right and left on the dark hallway and pulled out a small but powerful LED flashlight.
Right looked more dangerous: there were no lights at all, and John thought he could detect the faint saltiness of seawater. But it could also mean a death sentence for anyone just out for a walk and not looking for major adventures, so he choose left, figuring that he wanted to live at least for a few more years.
The little flashlight threw light about fifteen feet in front of him, allowing him to see several doors on either side of the hall. But it seemed like a danger light had come on in his head, as if his ATA gene was warning him that it wasn't safe.
The feeling was a bit unnerving, like an invisible someone was tapping him on the shoulder and saying," No, it's not safe." Strangely enough, it was also a safe feeling, like he knew that the 'someone' was a trusted friend and had his back at all times.
Resisting the natural instinct to look back and make sure no one was really behind him, John kept walking straight, ignoring small side halls that branched off left and right from his main passage and other doors that also had the warning feeling with them.
Finally, a door caught his attention that didn't carry that feeling he had gotten from the other doors. Instead, it felt like he was being invited in, welcomed and not being scared away. So, he swiped his hand in front of the keypad and the door opened. He definitely wasn't prepared for what he saw within the room.