"Elizabeth?"
Even his voice sounded distant. She could feel the tears falling from her eyes and the more she commanded them to stop, the more they decided to escape her. She had absolutely no idea why she was crying, if she could call it that. Not a single sob or exclamation had fought its way to the surface. Elizabeth tried curling her fingertips and found even that was a great effort, one that she gave up almost immediately.
"…Elizabeth?"
No. She decided to ignore his voice. Enough was enough. He'd won now, got her reaction, got her to show further weakness before him. Time stood still. He still had his arms wrapped around her. Why wouldn't he just let go? She wished it was dark. Before, the sleeping part of the city had been some sort of hiding place. Now it was all too bright. Thanks to him. …So many things because of him…
Elizabeth had no idea how long she just stood there. Only that she suddenly snapped back to reality with a hushed exclamation of shock when he kissed her forehead. She didn't even notice until she forced herself to question what was happening, feeling him nip at her neck before he kissed her properly, briefly. She took a small step back, stunned. "…What are you doing?"
"I don't sleep as soundly as you think," John said gently.
She at least managed to stop herself from blushing, though she was uncertain why she had to. She didn't know whether it was embarrassment at having been caught or the admittance to herself that she had taken such action. Tears still ran down her face, which she angrily swiped away with the back of her hand.
"Elizabeth?"
"What?"
"It's okay to cry, you know."
"No, it isn't," she replied. 'Not in front of you. Not in front of anybody.'
John moved to brush away the shards of glass under the panel with his foot, the pieces cracking and crunching as he tried to remove them.
Elizabeth watched, transfixed. She could still see the dark red of her own blood amongst the shards. For some reason, she didn't want him to move them and suppressed the urge to reach out and reclaim them. It was more than somewhat stupid, she knew, but somehow they were linked to her. He was sweeping away her memories without a care. "Don't-" she started, but fell silent once again.
He looked back at her, confused.
She changed her mind and nodded, looking away as he returned to moving the shattered glass. Take them away. There wasn't any point in her lingering in the feeling of despair and absolute grief when he was trying to dull the pain. It was selfish of her to think she had the right to. He could remove the shards, just as they had been pulled from her body, but he couldn't remove the scars for her. She knew she would be left with those for a long time to come, maybe her whole lifetime. Somehow that was comforting.
John sat down under the panel, back against the wall, the pile of shards a little way away. At least it had been a clean break, fewer pieces to hold further threat. He looked up at her, expectantly.
She sighed softly and moved to sit beside him, knees drawn to her chest, arms resting on them.
"…I always thought you, out of everybody, would be okay if anything devastating happened to anyone," he said quietly.
Elizabeth didn't know whether or not to be insulted by his remark. "What makes you say that?" she questioned, staring straight ahead.
"Because you're you. You're smart, capable, and, even if it hurts, you know when to let go."
She shook her head, exhaling slowly. "…You're wrong about me."
"How so?" John goaded.
"I may have doctorates and speak all these languages, but I'm not smart. I might be respected academically, but I'm not smart. I do stupid things. I make mistakes. Some people are capable because it's how they've been all their life, they know what to do and when, innately, others are just capable of out necessity." She glanced across at him, eyes dull. "And no, I don't know when to let go. If I've proved anything to you, I think it's that."
He decided not to argue. "You have a beautiful soul," he countered.
"Everybody's souls are beautiful. Sometimes you just have to look harder to see it."
"You love without question."
"Like I said, I'm not smart."
John paused. "You're stubborn."
"I'll grant you that," she answered, reluctantly. Elizabeth moved to stand, when he gripped her arm, as if to pull her back down. "I have to go, I have to start the morning briefings."
He frowned, almost disappointed. "You spend most of your life trying to get people to talk…so why won't you?"
She clambered to her feet, pausing before she moved off. "…Sometimes it's easier to love than to hate…and sometimes it's easier to run."
"Major Sheppard has not been reassigned to our team." Teyla jogged the few paces to catch up with Ford in one of the many corridors.
"I know. But we gotta give him time to recover. I wouldn't want to go back out there so soon," Aiden replied.
"I am aware of that." She nodded. "But will he not be offended?"
"…I think even he knows when he's got to quit for a while."
"Has he spoken to Doctor Heightmeyer?" she asked.
"I don't know. I guess not, unless he's been 'ordered' to."
Teyla nodded, slowly. "Doctor Weir says we are to go collect supplies from our newest allies later in the afternoon."
"McKay driving?" Aiden grimaced, not wanting the answer.
"…I believe so…"
"Remind me to bring a blindfold."
She smiled. "I shall endeavour to do so."
"…Has the Major spoken to Doctor Weir?"
"I have not seen them together recently…nor have I seen a great deal of either of them around the city…"
Ford sighed. "I don't know what would be worse; somebody coming back to you who you thought was dead, or being the one coming back having been presumed dead."
Teyla's voice was soft. "…I believe they must be equally as painful…"
Elizabeth spent the day in her office, for hours on end just filing and filling out report forms, giving orders and examining reconnaissance findings. She felt as if she were working at half the speed of a normal day, distracted and unable to concentrate, wishing she wasn't aware of the ache in her heart. It was only when the lights flickered and she noticed all was dark around her that she realized just how late it was. Another day hiding in her see-through office. If only it were that simple. She hadn't seen John all day, not even wandering around in the command centre.
She loved him. She actually loved him and that was the problem. How could she help him when she was all too afraid of getting hurt? She supposed nothing could compare to losing him completely, but what if he didn't like it when he discovered she could never return completely to the woman he had known six months ago?
It took her two hours to work up the courage to be standing where she was. Just outside his quarters, terrified out of her mind. Elizabeth knocked gently against the glass and waited for a response.
"Yeah?" John called, the door opening automatically. He hadn't expected to find her outside. He put the book he was reading down and stood up, gesturing for her to come in.
Elizabeth stepped inside, jumping ever so slightly when the door clicked shut. She stared at the floor for several long moments before she raised her eyes to meet his, completely unguarded. "…John…" her voice shook and for once she didn't try to hide it, "…Make love to me…" she said softly. "…Please…"
He drew her to him, slowly, and kissed her gently, giving her every opportunity to escape, waiting for her to take the words back or make an excuse. She remained in his arms and gradually deepened their embrace, content to go slowly, wanting to love and be loved in return. Erase all the damage they had done before. Stop hurting each other simply because they could.
Just to feel some real emotion, no matter how painful…