Midnight Confessor
Summary: Post-Ep for Poisoning the Well. Weir/Sheppard friendship.
Spoilers: Everything up to Poisoning the Well.
Disclaimers: Stargate Atlantis and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: I guess this is mostly fluff. I just wanted to see a little more of both Weir and Sheppard's reactions to the moral questions in the episode.
Major John Sheppard and his team are sitting in the commissary having their standard post-mission dinner. It has been a silent and depressing meal. Teyla looks conflicted, Ford confused, and McKay sick to his stomach – but John isn't sure if that's due to the Hoffans or the food. He doesn't know how he looks right now, but figures it's probably a good combination of the three. John stands, grabs his tray, and walks out of the commissary. The others barely acknowledge his departure.
John walks to his quarters but can't make himself go in. He's too restless to sleep even though he knows that his body needs it. He keeps walking with no particular destination in mind. It's not until he finds her that he unconsciously recognizes what he was looking for. Unfortunately, she's not alone.
Dr. Elizabeth Weir is out on the balcony with Dr. Carson Beckett. Beckett is leaning over the railing and Elizabeth has one hand laying reassuringly on his left shoulder. Sheppard can't hear what they're saying, but the moonlight reflecting off the tears on Carson's face is unmistakable. He watches as Elizabeth moves her arm to wrap around Beckett's shoulders in a kind of half-hug.
John knows he should walk away. He doesn't. All he does is take a step back from the doorway as Beckett walks off the balcony a few moments later. Elizabeth stays out on the balcony and John continues to stand in the half-dark hallway.
"Was there something you needed Major Sheppard?"
He doesn't move except to poke his head around to look out onto the balcony. Weir is now leaning again the railing, looking out over the water. John wonders if she's psychic or actually has eyes in the back of her head. As a kid, he once had talked himself into the nightmarish belief that he'd find a second pair of eyes under his mother's hair.
"I don't have eyes in the back of my head, so if you want to talk, you'll have to come out here."
Psychic, definitely psychic.
John walks out and mirrors Elizabeth's position against the railing.
"You okay?" He asks because he can't quite see her face in the almost dark.
"Not really. You?"
"Pretty far away from okay. How's Beckett?"
"Not good. But he'll survive – we all will."
"I wish I could say the same for the Hoffans."
"They made their own choice. You saw the vote."
"That doesn't really make it any better."
"No, it doesn't."
John doesn't really know what he's expecting, but her response leaves him a little disappointed. He's not sure if he is asking for the same reassurance and support she was giving Beckett.
"You don't really need me to pat you on the shoulder and tell you that everything is going to be okay."
He looks over at her in surprise. Now she's just starting to freak him out.
"Stop looking at me like I'm going to grow a second head. I'm not psychic. I'm just good at reading people. It's part of the job requirement."
"So I'm an open book?"
"Not usually, but you are tonight. Sometimes you wear your heart on your sleeve."
"When did we start only talking in clichés?"
"I was just thinking this would be a really hard conversation to explain to Teyla."
They smile at each other and fall silent. It's a few minutes before John's voice breaks through the still night.
"So what do I need?"
"Huh?"
"You said I didn't need a pat on the shoulder. What do I need?"
"You need me to tell you that you did the right thing. That there was nothing wrong in the decisions you made these past few days."
"Do you believe that? Or just telling me what I need to hear?"
"All we did was speed up the process. You told me yourself how obsessed the Hoffans were about this drug. They would have gotten there eventually."
"Just like I sped up waking the hives." He can't keep the self-deprecation out of his voice.
"Technically, it was my decision to bring us to Atlantis in the first place."
"It's not like you knew about the Wraith."
"It's not like you knew what killing that Wraith would do."
"Touché."
Elizabeth shrugs and looks back out over the water. John doesn't say anything, knowing she has more to say.
"I can't know whether us being here will make things better or worse in the long run. All I know is that the culling has been going on too long. We can't stop trying to make a difference because we may not like the immediate outcome. Even if we found a way back to Earth, we can't ignore the reality in this galaxy."
"But?"
"But we can't succumb to the single-mindedness that the Hoffans displayed."
"Are we back to talking about the Geneva Convention?"
"No. You were right. We can't always apply what we know from Earth to the situation here."
"I don't know if I would have asked you to make that decision if I knew what would happen to Steve."
"Then that's enough."
"What do you mean?"
"You were able to feel pity for something that would never feel pity for you. You're not the Wraith. You're not the Hoffans. You're still you."
"Something else I needed to hear?"
"Maybe. Maybe I need to hear it too."
"So if we're essentially doing good, why does it feel so rotten?"
"Because millions of Hoffans will die. Even if it is by their own choice."
"This sucks."
"Yeah...and it probably won't stop sucking for a while."
"Aren't you just full of happy thoughts tonight?" The talk has him feeling a little less awful, so he can't help throwing a little sarcasm her way.
"Starting to regret coming on this little adventure?"
"What? And leave you to sulk on your own? Never."
She smiles and, tonight, that's enough.
The End.
I know it's short, but I had to get this out of my head. Hope you all like it. Or at least don't hate it.